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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873178">Answer the Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Habur/pseuds/Habur'>Habur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:01:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Habur/pseuds/Habur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A twisted fairytale where Achilles embarks on a quest to save the prince, only to find out that nothing is as it seems.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Achilles &amp; Briseis, Achilles/Hector (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Dreams of Men</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was at these hours when he felt himself transformed. Becoming one with the night, the trees and the wind. The moon outside shone down on his face, then retreated behind her family of clouds, afraid once more. </p><p>“What are you so afraid of?” he wanted to ask.</p><p>“What is it you dare not show me?” </p><p>He was a boy, staring out the window, eyes chasing those elusive beams. He felt his pulse quicken every time he caught a glimpse of the great white beauty, the faintest flutter of hope arising within him. <em>Tonight she will reveal herself to me</em>, he would think to himself. </p><p>And then his mother would come and haul the window shut. </p><p>“You’ll catch a cold, Achilles,” she would chastise, long, elegant fingers beckoning him to bed. It was all he knew of his mother. She was elegant, afraid of the cold, and he could not do a single right in her eyes. </p><p>He longed for the moon. He felt she would say something to him that his mother could not, did not even know the words to. </p><p>“I’ll wait for you,” he would whisper in the dark, even when the curtains were drawn taut over the window, blocking out her light. </p><p>He waited. </p><p>The nights passed, and in them he looked for her. Every time they met, her light grew warmer. </p><p>Tonight, he knew. It wouldn’t be long now. She would speak to him, and he would know the secret she had been longing to share.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The years went by and he grew into a man. </p><p>“I am ready,” he said.</p><p>
  <em>Not yet.</em>
</p><p>Her voice rang out playfully, reaching out into his mind like dipping toes into a hot spring. It wasn’t really a voice, he contemplated. How could she have one? Yet he had learned her language, learned it his whole life so he could speak to her. </p><p>“I have been waiting for this my whole life. Take me,” he called out. </p><p>
  <em>I will tell you when it is time.</em>
</p><p>“You promised me,” he reminded her. </p><p>He felt her laugh, then, the ripple of her affection washing over him. </p><p>
  <em>Not long now, my dearest. We made a deal when you were a child. I do not forget so easily.</em>
</p><p>“If not tonight, then when?” he asked, knowing he was sulking. She teased him when he did this, but would not budge. </p><p>Her clouds veiled her from his sight again, and he could only step away from the window. He did not decide when they spoke, but this time, his mother was not around to keep him away. He was a man now. He made his own choices.<br/>
---------------------------------</p><p>They did not meet at the window again, but he knew she had been telling the truth. Every night he felt it approaching, his body and soul becoming rooted to the earth around him. When he was a child, she had told him what would happen. </p><p>And he recognized it now, the ties between him and the universe he knew slowly unwinding, preparing him for the journey to his true home. </p><p>All those years ago, he had learned her secret. Painstaking efforts, prying each word out until he heard it loud and clear. </p><p>He had never belonged here. Would never belong. </p><p>But she watched over him, and when the time came, she would bring him back to his true path. </p><p><em>Climb out the window</em>, came the words. </p><p>He felt himself smile. They took on a different meaning now. He rose from his bed, where he had kept the shutters open every night since his mother died. </p><p>
  <em>Be careful that you don’t fall.</em>
</p><p>He followed the pull in his chest, the ringing in his head. Out he climbed, his feet trekking cautiously down the wall. He crept down the solid brick, slowly and surely, until he landed on the grassy earth. </p><p><em>You know where to go</em>, she urged. </p><p>
  <em>I have drawn the path in your mind, and now you can see it.</em>
</p><p>Sure enough, his feet started to move on their own accord, and he found he knew the way. </p><p>His heart pounding loudly, he walked on, until the house was further behind him, out of his mind. He reached the hill overlooking the rest of the town, the little clearing where he had played as a boy. </p><p>There was a pond, its waters murky and covered with algae, but tonight it was clear. He saw her looking back at him from its crystal surface. </p><p><em>Come to me, dearest</em>, she said, and he knew this was it. </p><p>“How am I to …?” he asked, examining the water quizzically. </p><p><em>Come to me.</em> </p><p>It was the moment he had been waiting for, and he abandoned all worries. </p><p>He lifted his feet, and stepped right in.<br/>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>How long he had been here, he didn’t know. He felt he couldn’t have been happier. It all made sense, and when Briseis had finally sat him down to tell him his story, the call in his heart had been answered. </p><p>She was his constant companion in all his waking moments. She was there, the wind in his hair. She was the bark of the trees as they swayed to let him past. She was the chirping of the birds that woke him when the dawn swept across the sky, and she spoke to him in more ways than she ever could have in the world of the mundane. </p><p>At night, she rose to meet him in the form he knew best, and there were no clouds to take her away. </p><p><em>I will never leave you behind</em>, she promised. </p><p>“What are you, then?” </p><p>He could feel her smile, a warmth in his own skin. </p><p>
  <em>I am the one who has known you longest. I was there when you were born, and I left with you when you were cast out of this world.</em>
</p><p>“Then you are … a guardian, of sorts?”</p><p><em>Of sorts.</em> </p><p>“This is my home,” he breathed. </p><p>“Why did it take you so long?”</p><p><em>Oh, Achilles</em>. He could feel her sigh. </p><p><em>You do not know what it took to bring you home. I lost too much of myself, and I can never go back.</em> </p><p>“Never?” he asked, suddenly remorseful. </p><p>
  <em>Never. But I made an oath, when you were born, to protect you from harm.</em>
</p><p>“You brought me back for a reason,” he pressed. </p><p>“You said it was up to me to fulfill my destiny.”</p><p>
  <em>I am all around you, dearest. Even as my magic weakens, I bring you to find your own power.</em>
</p><p>“And what is that?” </p><p>
  <em>What is your desire? What was it you yearned for, those nights when you searched for me at the window?</em>
</p><p>Achilles paused. Deep down, he knew the answer, only, he was afraid she could not give him what he wanted. </p><p>“To stay here,” he whispered. </p><p>There was a silence, and he thought Briseis had left him to his thoughts. </p><p><em>You were a curious child</em>, she finally responded. </p><p><em>Half of this world, and half of the one that raised you. Cursed so you belonged to neither.</em> </p><p>In all the years they had spoken, he had never dared ask her. He felt he had to, now. One stroke of bravery, in the hours he was allowed to roam the land of his birth. </p><p>“Why was I taken away?” </p><p>The words were hushed, a sharp whisper into the cool air. He felt alone, then, as though Briseis had ceased her watch on him.</p><p>
  <em>Do you want to hear a story, my love? One that was yours from the beginning, but that you were never meant to hear.</em>
</p><p>“I’m afraid, Briseis. Afraid to know the truth.”</p><p>
  <em>You must learn it, or you will never find your place here.</em>
</p><p>He closed his eyes. “This is what you have been preparing me for. Now that I am here, there is no going back.” </p><p>There was a still second as he felt her enter his mind, reaching into a part of his memories that was locked away throughout his childhood. </p><p><em>Our world exists in the dreams of men</em> … she started. </p><p>And it came to him. Everything that had been kept secret from him, slowly rotting away so he would never find the truth, now golden and alive.<br/>
---------------------------------</p><p>There had once been a land of mortals.</p><p>They lived amongst the spirits of the earth, the magics and demons residing in the air, earth, and water. </p><p>This was the only place where people were born, and died. Death and rebirth, cycle after cycle, while the spirits they called gods watched them pass like night and day. </p><p>No mortal ever sought anything more, no mortal could fathom another existence. And in turn, the spirits gave them their blessing. They were friends to the mortals, and took on tangible forms to help them. Together, they built cities and towns. They grew crops and husbanded animals. They crowned kings and waged wars. </p><p>Before long, the spirits began to forget that there were boundaries to the ways of the mortals. They had gone too close. They loved, and they grieved. They forgot that the mortals were different, that their lives ran in cycles, not the constant everbeing of their divine counterparts. In turn, the mortals forgot as well, and reached far beyond what they could comprehend. They grew too proud. They sought to surpass death. And that was when the call to the great rulers of the earth came, to stop them. </p><p><em>He was one such spirit</em>, Briseis’ voice cut in. </p><p><em>Look.</em> </p><p>There was nowhere to indicate where she was pointing, but Achilles saw the vision fade around him, until he came upon an unspeakable darkness crawling out of the earth. </p><p><em>He was a spirit of death. Closer to the mortals than any other had ever gone.</em> </p><p>He saw the tendrils coming out of the rocky terrain. The shadow of a man, as close to a man as a spirit could be. </p><p><em>He was here to teach the mortals a valuable lesson</em>. </p><p>Achilles watched the shadow close in on the mountain, two figures conversing. </p><p><em>That was your father</em>. Briseis’ whisper crawled beneath Achilles’ skin, and he saw one of the figures with a crown on his head, flashing golden in the darkness. </p><p><em>I tried to warn him when the spirit came, his silver words offering the secret to eternal life. But your father would not listen.</em> </p><p>Achilles could hear the grief in Briseis’ words, could feel it weighing him down. </p><p><em>Your father’s decision was the folly of mankind. In one day and one night, he angered the great gods below, the playing gods, who held the pillars of the world in their hands.</em> </p><p>He could see the spirit now. An angel of death, messenger to the nether gods, in all his terrible beauty. </p><p><em>Fool mortal</em>, the spirit spoke, and out of his lips the voice was not human. </p><p>
  <em>You seek knowledge forbidden to your kind. With this, your punishment is due.</em>
</p><p>The king cowered before the spirit, his golden crown toppling to the floor. His cries were distant as the ground gave way beneath him, the walls shaking as his palace collapsed around his helpless form. </p><p>Achilles covered his ears as haunting chants filled the halls. It was a language more ancient than he could understand, but it was not unlike the one he had learned from Briseis. He recognized it for what it was. A curse, deep and unending. The fall of a kingdom. </p><p>The cries of an infant cut through the spirit’s voice. Achilles shuddered at the sudden, chill silence, the way the spirit’s eyes widened in realization. </p><p><em>That was where I intervened</em>. Briseis sounded weary, as though this had sapped her strength.</p><p>His vision became cloudy, then, and he had to squint to make out what happened next. The terror of the spirit’s flight into the infant’s chambers, snatching it - him - from his cradle. Briseis’ silhouette, running after him. </p><p><em>You were the last of the line. The soul of the people resided within you, and it would have been enough to bring them back, if you were allowed to grow up.</em> </p><p>Achilles watched the remains of the tale, Briseis’ shadow catching up to the spirit’s, taking the infant into her arms. And then they were both cast away, enchantress and child, to a world where no magic survived, where no spirits roamed.<br/>
-----------------------------------</p><p>It was nightfall, and Briseis’ face shone brilliantly above him, the shadows of his story fading away to the natural darkness around him. </p><p>“Why didn’t he just kill me?” he muttered.</p><p>
  <em>Why would he? Spirits do not harbor hatred for what they do not understand. It is a human emotion.</em>
</p><p>“He sent me away … so I couldn’t repel the curse?” </p><p>Briseis’ silence was all the answer he needed. </p><p>“They’re all gone, then? The city where I was born … my father’s house … it’s all just ruins now.”</p><p>
  <em>Until you, dearest. Until you returned to restore your father’s legacy.</em>
</p><p>“But how?” He was defeated before he had even begun.</p><p>“How do I fight beings greater than myself?”</p><p>
  <em>There is something else I must show you.</em>
</p><p>“You sound tired, Briseis. Your light is waning.”</p><p>
  <em>Yes. I must rest.</em>
</p><p>“You will come back? You won’t leave me here?”</p><p>
  <em>I will always come back. Go to sleep, Achilles. I will be there soon.</em>
</p><p>He nestled up against a tree, and felt it soften beneath him like a bed. Briseis’ doing, surely. He had begun to close his eyes when he remembered - he had no permanent tie to this world, not with Briseis away from him.</p><p>“Wait -” he gasped, but the arms of sleep took him, and when he next opened his eyes, he was back in his own bed, in his own room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Oaths and Curses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He thought of how he used to come here in the afternoons, when he was a boy. How there were ducks, and he’d feed them. His pockets stuffed full of crumbs, hurrying out of the kitchen hoping to see the creatures paddling across the water, to hear their quacks. He’d liked to watch them gobble up the crumbs, each one disappearing from the water.</p><p>It was quiet now. The ducks hadn’t come for years, considering the state the pond was in. He’d gone back to check every night, expecting Briseis’ hopeful brightness against the glassy surface. But it was closed. The portal to the other world, the place where he belonged. </p><p>“Don’t forget me, Briseis,” he whispered every night, his own silent prayer. </p><p>“You said you’d never leave me behind. Please.” </p><p>He would imagine the touch of her light on his face, trickles of her amusement flooding in. </p><p><em>You weren’t worried, were you? Silly Achilles</em>, she would say, and her laugh would hum in his ears. </p><p>Sometimes he thought she was watching him. He would race towards the window, where the shutters were kept wide open as they always were, but the sky was bereft of her. In her place a dim crescent, yellowed around the edges, stared back at him, a stranger.<br/>
----</p><p>He could feel her calling to him, deep in the bonds of sleep. Each syllable of his name he clung to with a desperation he could not quiet, afraid she would die out, and he would never hear her again. </p><p>It existed in the dreams of men. If he could conquer his own mind, to reach her, to let her know he was waiting … </p><p><em>Dream</em>, he told himself.<br/>
<em>Dream</em>, he commanded.<br/>
<em>Dream</em>, he begged.<br/>
---</p><p>She came to him that night, a shadow of her former self. </p><p><em>My Achilles</em>, she said. </p><p><em>Come now, for my magic has reached its limit in this world.</em> </p><p>The words were broken, he could barely make them out. The strong tide of relief had filled him, for he had begun to lose hope. </p><p>Again, he knew the way. He felt her pulling at him, as feeble as a child. </p><p>“Where is your moon, Briseis? Why can’t I see you?” </p><p>
  <em>Hush, let us not speak until you’re through.</em>
</p><p>He thought she sounded grave, then, and he clamped his lips shut, let her lead him through the clearing, to its edges overlooking the town. </p><p>And then she was all around him, but her presence now was a mere flicker to the brilliance that had once surrounded him. </p><p>Her voice had faded away, until all he heard was the rustling of the leaves in the soft wind. Her branches swayed above him, the rough bark brushing against his cheek, making him jump. Before him the great roots of the tree parted, leaving just enough room for him to crawl through. </p><p>“Another one,” he breathed, and leaped through it before he could second-guess himself.<br/>
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He couldn’t stop grinning, watching the splinters in the trunk come together and break apart. The sun-dappled leaves changed color as the branches rearranged themselves. </p><p>She was <em>moving</em>. She was <em>real</em>. She had given up some part of herself, to bring him back here again, and now he stood before her, as one might stand before a friend. </p><p>“I can touch you,” he said, reaching up to grasp her boughs, watching her leaves shake in laughter. </p><p>“You really are here with me, Briseis.” </p><p>
  <em>I was always with you, dearest.</em>
</p><p>He shook his head. “Not like this. Not <em>here</em>. With me.”</p><p>He didn’t know how else to say it. It was the closest she could have been to a <em>thing</em>, a person, someone he could see and hear and touch, outside his mind. </p><p>It was like meeting someone he’d only seen in photographs, had only heard on the radio. Had only dreamed of. </p><p>She had taken on an earthly form, for him. </p><p>“Why couldn’t you come back right away?”<br/>
He hoped the question wasn’t an affront, but he genuinely wanted to know. </p><p>
  <em>Do you know what a portal is made of?</em>
</p><p>“What?” </p><p>
  <em>The fabric of the very earth, woven from two cloths. Can you imagine a tapestry made from dust and wind? How would it hold?</em>
</p><p>He considered this for a moment. </p><p>“Only you can hold it?” </p><p>
  <em>Only long enough for you to see it. And you would never see it, if you hadn’t been born here.</em>
</p><p>“How does your magic work, Briseis?” </p><p>He could see the curve of her smile, even among the thousands of lines in the dark wood. </p><p>“Not for me to know, hmm?”</p><p>They shared an agreeable silence.  </p><p>“So you can weave fabric from dust and wind. You can show me the echo of the past as though it were happening before my eyes. And you can call me from the other side, because you have touched my mind.”</p><p>There was a silence, but he could tell she was waiting for him to ask. </p><p>“What else can you do, Briseis?” He sat on her roots, leaning back as they curled around him like a protective nest. </p><p>“What did you need to show me, before I went to sleep and returned before you could catch me?”<br/>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The sunlight glanced off her leaves, nearly blinding him when he looked through them. Her branches shaded him, but even in the coolness the brightness of the day caught up, and made itself known through the green of her leaves.</p><p>Cupping his hand over his eyes to protect them, he caught his first glimpse of Patroclus. </p><p>He dared not speak, lest the vision escape him. </p><p><em>You will understand when you see</em>, she had said.</p><p>He didn’t think he would, but now he saw what she meant. The ground beneath him trembled, and he felt how it transformed him again, another piece of himself accepted into this world that had discarded him. </p><p>At first he thought the man was the light itself, playing tricks on his mind. But then he could see him, up close, down to the very last hair on his brow, the very last crinkle in the corner of his eye when he smiled. </p><p>He had never seen anything more peculiar in his life. His eyes held on to the sight, and he felt them water, the way he struggled not to blink. Would he go blind, once he closed his eyes, and the vision was gone? </p><p><em>He doesn’t see me</em>, he thought to himself. </p><p>He squinted further, trying to get a glimpse of where this person was. He reached out, as if he could touch him, but it was no use. They were clearly separated. This was another of Briseis’ portals, except it didn’t go both ways. </p><p>He let out a harsh breath, and realized he had been holding it. All at once, he was back to himself, the sun having changed positions in the sky. </p><p>“Could I talk to him?” he asked Briseis. </p><p><em>You don’t even know who he is, Achilles.</em> </p><p>“I … but why do I …” </p><p>A leaf fell onto his shoulder, and he picked it up, twirled it in his fingers. </p><p>There was a strange pit in his stomach, like he’d lost something important but couldn’t remember what it was. </p><p>
  <em>What if I told you there was something more powerful than a curse?</em>
</p><p>“Tell me,” he sighed. </p><p><em>An oath. Words of binding.</em> </p><p>“Like the one you made? To protect me,” Achilles offered. He felt her rush of affection like a breeze on his cheek.</p><p>
  <em>Oaths and curses. Not so different, when you think about it.</em>
</p><p>“They couldn’t be more different,” Achilles marveled.</p><p>
  <em>How so? One undoes. The other creates. But in the end, just words.</em>
</p><p>“Words powerful enough to compel your magic,” Achilles mused. He sat up straighter, as it was beginning to dawn on him. </p><p><em>You are a stray, your ties to this world undone by a curse. What could bring them back?</em> </p><p>“Why did you show him to me?” Achilles asked, mind already racing. </p><p>“Who is he to me?” </p><p>He thought again of the face, roughly his own age. The smiling eyes, and how strange they were. A person could only dream of someone they had seen in their lifetime. When had he seen this man?</p><p><em>Your father was king. The day of your birth, he made an oath for the joining of lands. A union, one son to another.</em> </p><p>“He is my betrothed,” Achilles realized. </p><p>The last remnant of his father’s fallen kingdom, from the eyes of another that still stood. The only reason he had been able to seek Briseis. There had been some part of him, still tethered to this world. Even before his memories had formed.</p><p>“Is this what I’m here for?” he whispered. </p><p>“To find him?”</p><p>The long silence stretched on until he could no longer bear it. </p><p>“What am I to do, Briseis?” he cried. </p><p>Her question came again, and he knew the answer had not changed. </p><p>
  <em>What is your desire? What was it you yearned for, those nights when you searched for me at the window?</em>
</p><p>He could not breathe, the way his chest tightened against his ribcage. </p><p>“To stay here. To belong.”<br/>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>At night he curled up underneath Briseis’ roots. Even with her bark scratching against his cheeks, it gave him consolation that she was there, solid and strong to hold him to the earth.</p><p>“Don’t let me drift away,” he mumbled, even as his eyelids drooped, sleep claiming him.</p><p><em>There is nothing to fear. You are here, and my arms shield you.</em> </p><p>She hummed softly, a steadying of his heartbeat, and it was the images of her moonlit lullabies that lulled him into the darkness.<br/>
---</p><p>The dream came. </p><p>He was alone, the tree’s roots confining him like a cage. He struggled to slide out from under them, but they held him fast. The trunk was cold and grey, stiff, like it had turned to ash. </p><p>“Briseis,” he choked out, but she wasn’t there. He twisted around to look up at her, but it was just a tree. It loomed over him, silent and foreboding, and he had never felt more alone in his life. </p><p>Just as he started to panic, warm light cast itself over his face, and he was in front of a fire. He lay back, hypnotized, as the dancing flames crackled and spit before him. They seemed to have a life of their own, smoky wisps reaching out to him, never close enough to glance off his skin. </p><p>He noticed the shadows were not what they seemed. They wriggled and waved, mimicking the dance of the fire, but when he took his eyes off them they scurried out of sight. Odd shapes emerged from the shadows, and he realized the tree behind him was gone. </p><p>Without support, he fell back onto hard ground, and the fire finally licked out at his feet, drifting closer until it threatened to encase his body. He leaped away, but the cold hands grabbed him, the shadows jumping out from their hiding places. </p><p>They dug into his shoulders, into his arms, and chilled him to the bone. He could make them out from the corner of his eye, wavering shapes like little animals, shifting as quickly as he could glimpse them. And then they all came together and he was held fast by two steady arms, the whisper of a breath against his neck. </p><p>He leaned back, and felt it envelop him, and for a moment it wasn’t a shadow anymore, but the real flesh of a man. The tension in him started to release itself, and he felt more soothed than he’d ever been, a sort of deep stillness that lay over him like a veil between the waking world and the rest. </p><p>He was half-gone when the ground beneath him disappeared, and he jumped violently as the arms around him hardened to iron. How could he have been so stupid? He pried off the iron, fingernails breaking at the effort, but he could see he had been lured into a trap. The blackness around him was too still, too confining to be open air. </p><p>He felt his feet move, an attempt to run, although the iron had turned into claws and slashed at his back, a sharp sting making him cry out as he slammed into the wall. </p><p>Walls. </p><p>His hands found them, formed into fists, breaths coming in harsh pants as he pounded, searched, tore. The stone was smooth as marble, growing more slippery the more he attacked it, as though it had a life of its own. He slid onto the ground and started searching there, but it was no use. </p><p>He couldn’t see or hear a thing, only feel the weight of the silence, shiver as the cold reached under his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined himself away, only when he opened them, the same darkness greeted him. </p><p>The hours passed, or days, he didn’t know, but he had started to grow weary when the first beams of moonlight hit him, the stars twinkling at him from the vast sky. The walls had parted without his knowing, a window to the land outside. He let out a sigh of relief as real wind blew against his hair, the sight of the heavens and the mountains below so familiar, like home. </p><p>He leaned out the window once, bracing his palms on the ledge, and immediately drew back, his mind reeling, a pit in his stomach all the way to his toes. He might as well have been as high as the clouds; what lay below was an emptiness, a long fall away to the earth. It made him tremble just to think of it. </p><p>He looked up at the sky again for comfort, but although familiar, it was as distant as the earth. He was suspended in a place that did not begin or end, only lie in the middle where no earth or sky could reach. </p><p>And that was when he thought, <em>I am truly alone</em>.<br/>
-----------------------------------------------------------<br/>
He was brought out of the dream with an urgent pull, Briseis whispering at him in hushed fervor. </p><p><em>Achilles, Achilles</em>, she said. <em>Are you alright?</em> </p><p>“Oh no, Briseis,” he cried, hands coming up to his eyes to rub the last of the dream away. </p><p><em>You were lost to me, for a moment.</em> </p><p>“I have seen it,” he replied. He took in his surroundings, an immense relief entering him as his gaze rested on familiar sights; the grass and blue sky, Briseis once again a comforting presence. </p><p>He heard Briseis’ hesitation, as her leaves shivered around him, roots drawing back to let him sit up. </p><p><em>It was something I could not show you, Achilles. Only you had the power to see it.</em> </p><p>“I was him. For a moment, I was him,” Achilles breathed. </p><p>He closed his eyes again, still weary even though he had slept through the night. </p><p>“When?” he asked. “When was he taken?” </p><p>Briseis’ silence went on longer than it usually did. </p><p>
  <em>The moment you set foot on this earth. He knew you were here.</em>
</p><p>“The spirit?”</p><p>
  <em>He would know you anywhere.</em>
</p><p>“And you brought me back … thinking I could escape him?”</p><p>
  <em>No, Achilles. I have asked you, to make sure. If it is your wish to stay here … then the spirit is the way to finding your beloved.</em>
</p><p>“But he took him away! He knows my betrothed is the only tie I have left to my home.”</p><p><em>And that is why you must find him, dearest. This is where it all begins. You will journey to the one place on earth where the lives of humans and spirits intertwine.</em> </p><p>“How can there be such a place? You told me spirits were friends to mortals!”</p><p>
  <em>And they were. Until one caused the fall of a mortal kingdom. It has been forbidden, since then, for the two sides to interact. But the Tower has always been an exception.</em>
</p><p>“The tower … yes, it was so high up. He couldn’t escape.”</p><p>
  <em>It once had many names, but only one has stood the test of time. The Tower of Truth, for it is the place where all deceptions must be laid aside. No false words between spirit and man, lest one be condemned to lay beneath the Tower forever. It is the place where you will find the answers you seek.</em>
</p><p>“And I will find my betrothed there? After I face the spirit of death.”</p><p>Briseis reached down, her branches helping Achilles off the ground. </p><p><em>Those nights we spoke together. I would see your little face peeking out the window, looking for me. All of those moments have led up to this, my love. I have protected you and kept you safe from harm. But now, you go to your own destiny.</em> </p><p>“Don’t leave me, Briseis.” </p><p>The warm burst of her laughter, reaching into his soul like a balm. </p><p>
  <em>Never.</em>
</p><p>“Then you’ll come with me? You’ll guide me to the Tower of Truth?” </p><p>
  <em>Achilles. You will know when you reach the Tower of Truth, for that is when I must truly leave you. But it will not be forever. I will always be waiting for you, even if we have to part for a little while.</em>
</p><p>“Why can’t you go to the Tower of Truth?”</p><p><em>It is the nature of who I am. I am neither mortal nor spirit. I cannot lay aside my mask, for it is all that I have left.</em> </p><p>Achilles thought back to Briseis’ original form, the one he’d known his entire childhood. Except, that hadn’t been her original form either. He thought of the silhouette chasing after the infant, wresting him from the spirit of death’s arms. </p><p>Perhaps she’d once been like him. A humanoid figure, able to walk on land with two legs and hold him in her arms. And then she’d become his light, when he’d needed it the most, alone in a world he didn’t belong in. Now she was reduced to an earthly form, a being of nature. </p><p>He understood a little more of her magic, now. She transformed. She inhabited. She was the eternal weaver, who could shape reality to her will. She had once known the threads of the universe as well as most people knew to breathe, to walk, to dream. </p><p>And little by little, that knowledge had been lost, the longer she remained in the other world where no magic lived. She had sacrificed so much for him. </p><p>He grew afraid, thinking one day she would be snuffed out, a once great fire reduced to a single candle. </p><p>“I have to go alone, don’t I? At least, this step of the way.” </p><p>He thought he could see her face, then, not one he had seen before. Hidden there, between the lines and crags of the hollow in the tree. Curious eyes watching him, for the blink of a second, until they were no more but gouges in the trunk that had always been there. </p><p><em>We will not be apart for long, Achilles. Tonight, when you dream again, I will whisper a name in your ear. Hold on to it for as long as you can.</em> </p><p>“Can I see him again?” </p><p>He could sense her surprise. </p><p>“After that dream … I just … I need to see him again.” </p><p>The sunlight rippled through her leaves, and he could tell she was divided. </p><p>“I know it spends your power. To show me things that are … in a different space and time. But, Briseis, if you could. One more time.” </p><p>This time he could make out the blankness behind Patroclus. He understood why it was so hard to see, why light only fell on the man and not his surroundings. Tampering magic. The Tower barely tolerated it. </p><p>He looked at Patroclus for a long time. </p><p>His betrothed, an oath between them as long as the span of their lives. The roots he would need, to make his place in the world where he rightfully belonged. Power that ran through his veins, that ran as deep as the bowels of the earth, power that had come from a time when the gods were young. </p><p>Yet, so strange. This figure, stranded in a place beyond the reaches of civilization. A man he was destined to marry; so small and afraid and solitary, a mirror to his own soul. They were connected to each other in more ways than one, but he could have passed this man in the street at any time in his life. He would have glanced right through him, never knowing.</p><p>Yes, very strange indeed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Handful of Buttons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the first time he had ventured into civilization since his arrival. He scanned the muddy roads, squelching underneath his shoes as he walked. He passed by houses, each more run-down than the last. So this was where the humans resided. People like him, yet not like him at all. Even after sleeping in a tree for the past few nights, he still felt squeaky clean. His clothes were unstained, his features unmarred by labor. The few people he encountered stared at him when he wasn’t looking and averted their eyes when he was, like a bad omen. </p>
<p>He kept walking. He kept looking. His feet were sore, but he barely felt them, his mind intent on something else. A name, she had said. He’d woken up the next morning, clamoring to hold on to what she had given him, to remember. It had been like peering into a well, trying to catch a glimpse of a coin he’d dropped in. </p>
<p>The sounds took some getting used to. He’d gone too long with no one but Briseis to talk to, and she spoke with no real voice. Now they were all around him - human laughter, human cries. Carts being pulled through the mud. Doors opening and closing. Animals, and their smells, too. </p>
<p>He wondered if his father’s palace had overlooked a town like this one. It was difficult to imagine life like this, not nearly as different from the other world as he had thought. Those expressions - the tired light in people’s eyes - they were the same. There was no escaping some things, no matter where he went. </p>
<p>The people didn’t bother to avert their gazes once he reached the bustling town square. He received open stares - most simply curious, some downright hostile. Did he look so different? Even among his own kind, he didn’t belong. Yet. One day he would walk through a town like this, perhaps the very same one, and they would look right through him. </p>
<p>He was beginning to grow tired. How long had he gone without eating and drinking? However attuned Briseis was to the way his mind worked, she knew little of human needs. He closed his eyes, a small wave of dizziness washing over him. He remembered wandering around, foraging for food. Why hadn’t he thought to bring some with him? He had gotten too forgetful. </p>
<p>The rush of voices swept over him as he entered the tavern, after huddling outside for several moments deciding whether to go in. In the end, the growling in his stomach won over. He entered quietly, trying not to catch the attention of the tavern’s patrons, but still some eyed him. He found an empty spot in a corner and couldn’t help a small sigh as he sat down, the burning in the balls of his feet soothed for just a second. </p>
<p>One of the workers noticed him and sauntered over, leaning forward to wipe the table down with a rag. <br/>“What’ll it be?” he asked, in an irritated tone. </p>
<p>Achilles looked at him, then hesitantly peered round at the other tables. <br/>“I’ll just …” he motioned vaguely at the table nearest him. “Have one of that.”</p>
<p>The man shrugged and walked away, returning only minutes later to plunk a steaming bowl and a frothy mug on the table. Achilles stared at the food, the familiar aroma surrounding him. It was a meat stew and ale, and he felt as though he hadn’t seen anything more delicious in his life, even though the meat was clearly overcooked, the gravy lumpy.</p>
<p>The server cleared his throat. </p>
<p>Achilles glanced up at him, puzzled, then remembered and felt a panic in his chest. He rooted through his pockets, hoping he had something. Clearly he didn’t have any money, not in any currency this town was used to seeing. But sometimes he kept spare change in his pocket, and maybe it would be enough. </p>
<p>His hand gripped something and he fished it out, only to have his stomach sink when he was met with a handful of buttons. The server snorted. </p>
<p>“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave if you can’t pay.” </p>
<p>Achilles stared forlornly at the food again, his stomach making painful spasms at the sight. </p>
<p>“Off you go, then.” </p>
<p>He sighed and moved to get up. </p>
<p>“There.” </p>
<p>Someone slapped a pile of coins onto the table. </p>
<p>“No reason to kick him out now, is there?”</p>
<p>Both Achilles and the server turned their attention to the newcomer. </p>
<p>“This isn’t a charity, you know,” the server growled. </p>
<p>“Course it isn’t. Which is why you take the money and go.” </p>
<p>Achilles’ heart was thumping as he gazed up at the man. He hadn’t even noticed him approaching. The server rolled his eyes, swept the coins into his apron and left Achilles alone. </p>
<p>There was a brief silence as Achilles and the newcomer regarded each other. </p>
<p>“You didn’t have to do that,” Achilles offered. </p>
<p>“I know.” The man inclined his head. “Enjoy your food.”</p>
<p>He turned to leave when Achilles stopped him.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you sit here with me?” </p>
<p>The man threw a look over his shoulder, seemed to make up his mind, and took his seat opposite Achilles without a word. </p>
<p>They sat in silence for a while, Achilles reluctantly starting to eat, while the man nursed his own mug of ale. The sudden human company was strangely comforting and awkward at the same time. </p>
<p>“So? What brings you around these parts?” the man asked, dark eyes pinning Achilles’ own. He had a voice that was gruff, but not unfriendly. </p>
<p>“I really do stick out like a sore thumb, don’t I?” </p>
<p>The man leaned back and studied him. <br/>“People aren’t too welcoming of foreigners here. Take it from one who knows. It’s best you keep to yourself until you get to where you need to go.” </p>
<p>“What is it about me?” Achilles asked. <br/>“What screams <em>not from here</em>?” </p>
<p>The man’s lips quirked up a little. <br/>“It isn’t every day I see someone walking around in pyjamas. I would imagine the locals find it baffling as well.” </p>
<p>Achilles started, looking down at himself quickly. He wasn’t - well, he was, but he’d thought it blended in quite nicely. His shirt was a white one, and the trousers were black. </p>
<p>“I, er … I didn’t think anyone would notice,” he admitted.</p>
<p>“I was joking. Though I suppose your dryad friend didn’t advise you on dressing conventions?”</p>
<p>This made Achilles’ heart jump a little. <br/>“What?”</p>
<p>“People can tell, you know. No one likes to bring it up. But it can be pretty obvious when you’ve been around one of them long enough.” </p>
<p>Briseis had mentioned how the two sides no longer interacted. She hadn’t said anything about hostility. Perhaps she hadn’t known. </p>
<p>“How? How can you tell?” </p>
<p>The man reached out and placed a finger on Achilles’ arm, dragging it over the skin. The touch made the gooseflesh rise in its trail. </p>
<p>“You see that?” He held his hand underneath the light. </p>
<p>Achilles squinted at it, but as his eyes adjusted, it was as clear as the sun shining in his face. The man’s fingers were stained a greenish-rust, like a bruise over his skin, or a swollen vein. </p>
<p>Achilles found himself brushing anxious hands over his face, his neck, his arms. He looked down at himself and saw nothing. </p>
<p>“You won’t be able to see it on yourself. In fact, most people wouldn’t notice at all. But this town … well, you can say it has history with the otherfolk.” </p>
<p>“Otherfolk?” Achilles whispered, suddenly so self-conscious he wished he could sink into the ground.</p>
<p>“Mostly harmless, I know. Lesser spirits. Creatures of the woods and waters. At least, I hope your friend is one of the harmless ones.” </p>
<p>Achilles hadn’t expected anyone to confront him about Briseis, and now he found himself speechless. Briseis wasn’t an <em>otherfolk</em>, he wanted to say. She was much more, and this man’s open and easy demeanor made him want to spill everything over. But he knew it wouldn’t make a difference, so he kept his mouth shut. </p>
<p>“Don’t look so worried. As long as you go on your way, most people will turn a blind eye as long as you don’t get them involved. Once in a while you’ll run into those lunatics who think you’ve sold your soul, but for the most part it’s an unspoken rule. Mind your own business, and they’ll mind theirs.” </p>
<p>“ … You didn’t mind your own business, though. I was going to leave, and you could have just let me.” </p>
<p>This got him a real smile, and the man’s eyes were a clear brown now that Achilles could see him closer. </p>
<p>“I’m just a nosy person.” </p>
<p>Achilles frowned, taking another bite of his food. <br/>“Somehow you don’t come off that way to me.” </p>
<p>The man’s features darkened. <br/>“Ugly things have happened before. A man gets ousted from a tavern, curious patrons follow behind to see what the trouble was. One thing leads to another. I know I’ve contradicted myself. You’re most likely safe. But, it doesn’t harm to make sure.” </p>
<p>“Well … thank you. I mean it. I wouldn’t have known.” </p>
<p>The man gave him a long look in reply. <br/>“Finish your food. Then I’ll show you the fastest way out of here. You don’t want to be staying the night, trust me.” <br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>It was getting dark by the time they trudged through the streets together. </p>
<p>“You see that road over there? It will take you right outside the town. You could go back to where you started, or over to the next city.” </p>
<p>Achilles hesitated. Now was the time to ask, and he wasn’t likely to meet anyone else so receptive of his foreignness. </p>
<p>“I came here looking for something,” he confessed. </p>
<p>The man met his gaze. </p>
<p>“I just … I can’t remember. My - my friend, she told me who to look for. But I can’t … it was in a dream.”</p>
<p>“Your friend, hmm?” The man folded his arms, and Achilles could see him weighing his next words. </p>
<p>“Look, I don’t want to be the sort to tell you what to do. I don’t know anything about you. People choose to meddle with spirits for all kinds of reasons. They’re often the wrong ones, but sometimes they’re not. Who’s to say?”</p>
<p>“She isn’t what you think she is.” The words were out before Achilles could stop them. <br/>“This … what you said they are. She’s been there for me my entire life. She swore an oath to protect me.” </p>
<p>The man frowned at this. </p>
<p>“Spirits do not swear oaths. Trust me … I, I know.” </p>
<p>“But she isn’t a spirit. Not really. At least, I don’t think so.” </p>
<p>“What has she been telling you?”</p>
<p>“She’s been helping me find something. You see, I’m not from around here. And I mean, <em>really</em> not. I grew up someplace far away. But I’m trying to find my home.”</p>
<p>Achilles took a deep breath. </p>
<p>“Are you him?” </p>
<p>He looked at the other man, willed himself to see through his gaze, to meet that uncertainty ever since this stranger had touched his arm in the tavern and shown him what he really looked like. </p>
<p>The man’s frown had deepened so much the lines in his forehead looked permanently etched there. </p>
<p>“Don’t.” </p>
<p>“She told me a name. Was it yours?” </p>
<p>“Take my advice, stranger. You don’t want to go there.”</p>
<p>Achilles squeezed his eyes shut, drawing out every last bit of the dream he’d had, the message Briseis had tried to deliver. </p>
<p>“You helped me for a reason. Whether you knew it or not, we were meant to cross paths. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” </p>
<p>He could see how angry the man had gotten. Although calm, his temple throbbed as he clenched his jaw, and the warm brown of his eyes had faded to a flat black. </p>
<p>“I do not like it when my name is thrown around so carelessly.” </p>
<p>“She wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t need to. Please.” </p>
<p>Oh, why couldn’t he remember? Briseis had told him to hold on to it for as long as he could, but he’d lost it as soon as he woke up. His lips formed the syllables, but no sound came out. <br/>In the distance, he could hear Briseis’ quiet hums, pulling him into a trance. She’d told him a story, and warned him to listen carefully, or he would hear the words all wrong and she could not repeat it again. </p>
<p>
  <em>No spirit can utter the name of the man who kills it. But if you are like me, you can listen closely, and the wind carries its fragments until they make themselves whole. I take the sounds, and I weave them together, until I hear them for a second before they are carried away again. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“A man cannot kill a spirit,” he objected.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, but it has been done before. Once in hundreds of years, a man is born with the kind of soul that matches the gods in strength. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Tell me, then.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And she told him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She told him of a man, who could speak to the spirits, could see them, even when they had made themselves invisible to the mortals. He was a remnant of past days, of better times. Here was a human who did not treat the other side as an unspeakable evil, who remembered the good they had done the world. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And the creatures of magic rejoiced, for if there was one, there could be others.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But the spirit of death’s curse rang true, and it wasn’t long before the walls started to crumble. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not all spirits are equal. In a way, they are not so different from mortals. They are righteous and malevolent alike, no one the same as the other. The mortal man had grown to trust too much, had grown to love. And then came a betrayal that changed his life forever.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Achilles could picture it in his head, how she had conjured the light and darkness so that he could see them move, see them dance, the silhouette of a man entwined with his immortal lover. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He shuddered, struggling not to look away when the scene changed, the man crying out as the lies started to untangle. Started to see how he had been ruined, by giving everything he had to a being who could not understand the ways of mortals, however much their love had seemed that way. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And then he had taken a hold of her, the strength of gods within him, and in that moment a forbidden knowledge passed on to him before he could refuse it. He exacted his revenge, swift, and cold, and brutal. And she was destroyed. </em>
</p>
<p><em>The tears fell before Achilles realized, horrified as he was by the vision. Briseis had leaned close, then, and he felt her at his ear, whispering the syllables like she was passing on a great burden.</em> </p>
<p>“Hector,” he sighed, clutching at his head, the muscles in it had grown so tight they throbbed painfully. </p>
<p>Hector looked defeated, his face white as marble, his form hunched over and unhappy. </p>
<p>“You should be afraid of me,” he muttered. </p>
<p>Achilles scoffed. “I should. I am. You … took a spirit’s life and crushed it in your hands. No mortal should know how to do that.” </p>
<p>“I had my reasons,” Hector growled. <br/>“But even so …” he hung his head. <br/>“It didn’t matter. I’ve waited for it to mean something, for some sense of justice.”</p>
<p>“And it never came?” </p>
<p>“No.” Hector looked at him, then, gaze sharp.</p>
<p>“I know what you’re going to ask me. And believe me, killing a spirit has brought me nothing but misery.” </p>
<p>“I need your help. You are the only person in the world who can help me.”</p>
<p>“It would have been better if we hadn’t met. Your friend knew what she was doing, didn’t she?” Hector groaned and covered his face.<br/>“No ordinary dryad.”</p>
<p>“You said people meddled with spirits for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes they’re wrong. Yours weren’t. Maybe mine aren’t either. Who’s to say?” </p>
<p>Hector glared, displeased at having his words turned on him. </p>
<p>“I need this. I’m not here in anger. I have not been betrayed. I only want to find my way home. Help me, Hector. Maybe then the spirits can say your name again.” </p>
<p>“I wish you’d go fuck yourself,” Hector surmised. </p>
<p>He kicked at the ground, then groaned again and grabbed Achilles’ hand. </p>
<p>“Take me to your friend, then. We’ll see what she’ll have to say.” </p>
<p>Achilles could feel the dam breaking, relief flooding through him like no other. <br/><em>Briseis</em>, he thought. <em>You’ve really done it now.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Pocket of Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were sitting by the fire, eating the last of the rabbit Hector had caught for their dinner. Achilles had watched as the man’s clever fingers laid out the trap, pressing himself flat on the ground silently, watching for any sign of movement. He’d had a kind of statue-still patience, almost like an animal himself, a hawk or a mountain lion. He’d moved so fast, hands clutching the animal, quickly going for the kill before Achilles had even seen what he’d done. </p>
<p>Hector had caught Achilles staring as he skinned the rabbit. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes roamed over Achilles’ hands - smooth, uncalloused, hands that had never done manual labor or killed his own food. </p>
<p>“What?” Achilles had asked, feeling judged. </p>
<p>They had been on the road for weeks, and the isolation wasn’t doing either of them any favors. Hector really wasn’t very talkative at all, not like he’d been at the tavern. He was the brooding sort, but sometimes out of nowhere he’d crack a joke or whistle a tune. Achilles never knew what to expect with him. </p>
<p>“You want to try?” Hector held out the skinner knife to Achilles, hand still bloody. His expression was unreadable but Achilles felt like he was being tested. He took the knife from Hector, gore and all, and turned it over in his hands. </p>
<p>“You’ll have to show me,” he said. </p>
<p>That got a sudden smile from Hector. He beckoned Achilles over and showed him where to cut, how to salvage the pelt. </p>
<p>“This will keep you warm at night,” he declared, waving the brown rabbit skin at Achilles, who laughed and batted it away. </p>
<p>“I’m serious,” Hector continued. “When we get closer to the Tower, it will start to become unbearable. We could use anything we can get.” </p>
<p>So here they were now, and Achilles didn’t think he’d ever felt more capable in his life. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d relied on Briseis, keeping him sheltered, soothing him with her talk and the rustling of her leaves that almost sounded like music, at times. He couldn’t survive on words. </p>
<p>The smell of the meat cooking over the fire reminded him of that as it wafted into the air. He was filled with a warm, cozy feeling, almost like home in the middle of the hinterlands. He watched Hector stoking the flames, slowly turning the spit. The light cast a warm glow around the other man, so that there seemed to be something soft about him, at least around the edges. </p>
<p>“The Tower of Truth,” Hector considered. </p>
<p>It was rare that he voiced his thoughts on the matter. Hector usually said nothing of the darker side of the world if he could help it. Sometimes Achilles burned with a hundred different questions, but he didn’t think he had the right to ask. And there was always Briseis, concealed as she was from Hector’s sight, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching. </p>
<p>“It’s a certain kind of madness that brings a man to such far reaches.” </p>
<p>Hector tore off a piece of rabbit and handed it to Achilles. </p>
<p>“It must be for someone very precious indeed.” </p>
<p>Achilles had no answer to that. Someone precious? Someone important, yes. He had gotten Hector involved, a man with the power to kill the undying, all so he could face whatever awaited him at the Tower. All so he could find the one he had been promised to. </p>
<p>“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, and Hector’s eyes flashed up at him, shrewd and unceasing.</p>
<p>“Why would anyone go to the Tower of Truth for less?” Hector asked, his shoulders rising and falling as though pointing out the obvious. </p>
<p>“I suppose,” Achilles replied, although his insides had shrivelled unto themselves. <br/>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>She had been careful not to show herself when Hector was around. </p>
<p><em>It is nothing that I fear</em>, Briseis had insisted. </p>
<p>
  <em>I wouldn’t have asked you to find him if I couldn’t protect you from him.</em>
</p>
<p>“Then why do you hide when he comes? He has never seen you for what you are. Perhaps if he did, he would understand.”</p>
<p><em>He understands, love. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be helping you.</em> </p>
<p>Achilles had sighed at her stubbornness. Briseis had cause to be wary of Hector, and perhaps she was tactful enough not to cause him offense. But her keeping away only made Hector more distrustful of her, someone who wouldn’t face him. He had met her, for a short moment, the night he’d agreed to follow Achilles out of the town. But there was something in him that had been forever marred by the presence of the otherfolk, nothing could mend it, not even Achilles, who was the bridge between them. <br/>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>At night he tossed and he turned, the hard ground underneath him keeping him awake. He turned his head to look at Hector, asleep some distance away, quiet as death but for the slow movement of his chest. He rose, slowly, careful not to wake the man, who was a light sleeper. </p>
<p>He could feel the stars twinkling at him, calling for him to look at them, to give them a moment of his time. </p>
<p>“Briseis?” he frowned. </p>
<p>He treaded lightly as he left the circle of their encampment, his blood tingling under his skin, all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. This was a night like no other, the cool air wrapping around him like a blanket, the stars guiding his path, and the smell of the flowering trees and sweet grass a cloud of perfume.</p>
<p>There was a circle, under the trees, where the grass had dried out and faded, a spot that the branches had not shaded from the sun. It was here that Achilles saw them, their willowy arms outstretched, then linking together as their feet carried them in and out of the circle.</p>
<p>His heart sang with them, and he found himself unable to move. </p>
<p>Stars. </p>
<p>Alighted on the earth, a night they were allowed to leave the sky. He could have danced with them, could have run into their circle, eager to join in the pale enchantment of their gathering. But something told him to stay back. Something told him that this was a distance that was not to be covered, that he would be breaking a sacred rule by approaching these beings. </p>
<p>He watched their dance, completely mesmerized, each turn and twirl in time to the drum that was his heartbeat. When it was over, he watched them link arms, and in the blink of an eye the circle was empty again. It was like the ending of his favorite song, hearing the last notes fade away over the radio.</p>
<p>“You came to watch them too?”</p>
<p>He jumped so hard he nearly hit his head on a branch. Peering at the trees on the other side of the circle, he made out the blend of shadows wide enough to conceal a person. </p>
<p>Pulse thudding rapidly, he inched closer, until he could make out the figure nestled in the tangle of roots, lounging comfortably. His tongue became a dead weight in his mouth. Another of Briseis’ portals? </p>
<p>It couldn’t be. </p>
<p>“I never miss it,” Patroclus added, watching Achilles in curiosity. </p>
<p>Here he looked so real, so tangible, although when Achilles narrowed his eyes enough he could make out the background. Patroclus sat in another time, another place, yet they were facing each other, and had seen the same stars. </p>
<p>“I -” Achilles started. “I didn’t think you could see me. Or talk to me.”</p>
<p>Patroclus smiled, and Achilles couldn’t believe it was directed at him. He was talking to his betrothed.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand it, either.”</p>
<p>“Then you know who I am?”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>Achilles frowned, thinking this over. This sort of magic weakened Briseis. But perhaps it wasn’t what he thought it was. It was not a portal, the kind of powerful meeting between two worlds that sapped Briseis’ strength like no other. It was not a recreation of images and sounds, like the visions and illusions she had conjured up before Achilles’ very eyes, when she desperately needed for him to understand.</p>
<p>This was a little pocket taken out of time. It required no overexertion of her powers, because it had already happened. Patroclus had watched the dance of the stars on a different night, sometime in the past. She had fetched that moment, and brought it here so they could meet, could speak to each other, in the few borrowed minutes they had before the clock reset itself and the world ran again. </p>
<p>“My name is Achilles,” he blurted out, suddenly very conscious of who he was speaking to.</p>
<p>Patroclus stared at him, eyes widening slightly, and let out a laugh that was light and airy, the sound latching on to a part of Achilles and twisting it. Achilles felt the need to move even closer, to take in everything he could with his eyes. The stranger on the street, now a real person he could know. </p>
<p>“Achilles? What a silly name.”</p>
<p>He was taken by surprise, and met Patroclus’ gaze, frowning slightly. </p>
<p>“I - what?”</p>
<p>“It sounds like a sneeze.” <br/>Patroclus laughed again, as though he couldn’t help it, but his eyes were so warm and friendly Achilles’ initial shock was soothed.</p>
<p>“You - well you’re one to talk,” Achilles retorted.<br/>“Aren’t princes in towers supposed to be all alluring and tragic?”</p>
<p>Patroclus grinned. “What? I’m not alluring enough for you?” </p>
<p>Achilles studied Patroclus. “You’re about as alluring as a piece of toast.”<br/>He paused, considering.<br/>“But I can definitely see the tragic part.”</p>
<p>He watched as Patroclus’ shoulders started to shake, a particularly hard burst of laughter threatening to come out. </p>
<p>“So you’re whom my father wanted me to marry,” Patroclus observed, once he had recovered. <br/>“Well, at least you have a sense of humor.” <br/>He smiled again.<br/>“Achilles,” he chuckled. </p>
<p>“Stop making fun of me. Yours isn’t much better, you know?” </p>
<p>“Make fun of you? You compared my appearance to bread!”</p>
<p>“Actually, I quite like toast. I eat it with jam.”</p>
<p>“Noted.” </p>
<p>Patroclus sat up, and the air around him began to glimmer. He looked around him, and his playful expression turned uncertain. </p>
<p>“Come see me again, won’t you?” He looked at Achilles, hopeful. </p>
<p>“When they come out to dance, I’ll be here, watching them. Look for me.”</p>
<p>Achilles looked up at the sky, the glimmering dots spread out across it. </p>
<p>“I will,” he said. </p>
<p>They smiled at each other, tentatively, eyes locked in a last glance, before Briseis’ pocket of time closed. </p>
<p>“Briseis,” Achilles whispered. </p>
<p>“I hope you have taken many of his moments, and scattered them across the world for me to find.” <br/>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>He found himself thinking of Patroclus often. It was like those blades of grass that clung to the fabric of his trousers when he walked through them, clinging and clinging, no matter how hard he swiped them away. The memory of his betrothed clouded his mind, lingered there like the trace of hot wine in his belly. </p>
<p>But the day went on, and he knew it would be some time before he found another pocket again. Hector was teaching him how to make the traps for the rabbits. Hector taught him all sorts of things; which roots to gather for food, which mushrooms were poisonous. <br/>---</p>
<p>“How do you know all this?” Achilles asked, one day. </p>
<p>The weeks had slowly turned into a month. He thought he would have gotten restless, but the busy work of setting up camp, of feeding themselves, and of exploring the places around them made him wonder if he could get used to this kind of nomadic life. </p>
<p>Hector’s answering smile was as quiet as it usually was. Achilles had learned every single one of those smiles in the past few weeks. He couldn’t help it. </p>
<p>Traveling together had made them close in a way he couldn’t put a name to. They weren’t friends, exactly. Yet he knew what Hector’s breathing sounded like in his sleep, knew what songs he liked to hum when he worked, the pattern of his footsteps treading over the ground. </p>
<p>“You learn as you go,” Hector replied. <br/>“Years of living on the road have helped.” </p>
<p>“Did you always live like this, then?” Achilles questioned. </p>
<p>Hector shrugged. <br/>“What do you think?” </p>
<p>From anyone else it would have sounded like a dismissal, but Achilles had gotten used to the other man’s mannerisms. </p>
<p>“Everybody comes from somewhere,” Achilles mused. <br/>“Even you.”</p>
<p>Hector’s smile widened. “Even me.” </p>
<p>“What was it like?” Achilles continued, after hesitating a little. </p>
<p>“Ordinary,” Hector acknowledged. “Peaceful. Not much, but then, after you’ve lived by yourself for so long, every place seems like a marvel.” </p>
<p>“This whole place is a marvel,” Achilles sighed. <br/>“I’ve never felt more at peace than when I’m here.” </p>
<p>Hector eyed him, reaching over to correct a knot in the rabbit trap. <br/>“I’m sure where you come from isn’t half bad, either.” </p>
<p>Achilles fell silent, and they continued working without conversation. <br/>-----------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>It was a chilly night, and Achilles shivered under the thin fabric of his pyjamas. He heard Hector shift beside him. </p>
<p>“I can hear your teeth chattering,” Hector grumbled. </p>
<p>Achilles didn’t reply, and for a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then he heard Hector grumble some more, and felt the warmth of Hector’s cloak thrown over him, the other man’s body moving closer to curl up next to him. </p>
<p>Achilles chanced a glance over his shoulder, and met Hector’s eyes. </p>
<p>“Don’t get any ideas,” Hector said. </p>
<p>“Me? <em>You</em> don’t get any ideas,” Achilles retorted. </p>
<p>He heard Hector’s chuckle. </p>
<p>“Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t kick me, please.” </p>
<p>Achilles snorted and rolled back over. A few minutes later, the steady pattern of Hector’s breathing lulled him to sleep. <br/>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“You kept kicking me last night,” Hector complained, bending backwards to stretch out his tired muscles. </p>
<p>“Well, you snore,” Achilles replied, even though it wasn’t really true. He liked the sounds Hector made in his sleep, open and gentle; they were a comfort when he felt like there was nobody else watching over him, Briseis having retreated further away. </p>
<p>Of course, he was never going to admit it. </p>
<p>He watched as Hector started to pack up their camping supplies. </p>
<p>“Once we get on the next road, we’ll have to find some horses. It isn’t friendly terrain.”</p>
<p>Hector leaned down and inspected Achilles’ shoes. <br/>“You were never equipped to travel on foot to begin with. We’ll have to get you some boots.” </p>
<p>“Do you mean we’ll have to stop at the next town? What if they see me?” </p>
<p>Achilles ran his hands down the front of his shirt, remembering the green-rust tinge of Hector’s fingers when the other man had brushed them over his skin, at the tavern. How he couldn’t see it on himself, but an experienced eye would, and recognize it for the touch of the otherfolk. </p>
<p>“You will wait outside. Leave it to me,” Hector muttered nonchalantly. </p>
<p>Achilles felt his stomach drop, a little. </p>
<p>He studied Hector as the other man continued packing, movements swift, almost aggressive. </p>
<p>He was in a hurry. </p>
<p>“You’re …” Achilles started, then stopped himself. He hated feeling this small. </p>
<p>“Are you going to come back?” </p>
<p>This made Hector pause and frown up at him. </p>
<p>“Why would you think -” Hector caught the look on Achilles’ face. He straightened, stepping forward closer, as though unsure how to approach.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, finally. </p>
<p>They held each other’s gazes. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t just leave you there without any warning.” </p>
<p>Achilles pursed his lips, unsure. </p>
<p>“We’ve been traveling together for a month now, Achilles. At some point, you will have to trust me.” </p>
<p>“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that …” He trailed off, looking at the ground, at his sides, anywhere but Hector. </p>
<p>“She’ll come back,” Hector voiced, guessing at the source of his worry. </p>
<p>“If there’s one thing I know about the otherfolk, they can’t keep away once they’ve touched a human life.” </p>
<p>“But she’s been gone so long.” </p>
<p>“It’s me,” Hector admitted. “I scare her away. I can leave for longer, if you’d like.” </p>
<p>Achilles dared a look at Hector, confused at the kindness in his tone. </p>
<p>“But you hate spirits.” </p>
<p>He flushed. </p>
<p>“I mean, you don’t trust them.” </p>
<p>“But you do,” Hector added. </p>
<p>“For some reason, you trust her. I can only believe you have cause for it.” </p>
<p>“I thought you would…” </p>
<p>“What? Lecture you? I am your guide, Achilles. Not your father, or your master. You make your choices, and if I think they are going to endanger us on our journey to the Tower, I will speak up. Otherwise …” </p>
<p>Hector eyed him again. </p>
<p>“They are your choices.” </p>
<p>At Achilles’ bewildered silence, Hector continued. <br/>“She has to come back sometime soon. She has the knowledge you will need to forge your weapon.”</p>
<p>“Weapon?” </p>
<p>Hector raised an eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t think you would face the spirit of death unarmed?”</p>
<p>“I certainly don’t plan on killing a spirit!” Achilles replied, incredulous.</p>
<p>Hector laughed. “Of course not. But what are you going to do once you are faced with his power? You will need to subdue him.” </p>
<p>“I am not going to bring up arms against the spirit of death!” Achilles argued. <br/>“It is madness!”</p>
<p>“Even more so to go empty-handed.” </p>
<p>“I won’t be empty-handed! Why do you think I asked you -” </p>
<p>He paused, seeing Hector’s expression darken. </p>
<p>“Wait. I didn’t mean -”</p>
<p>“No, I understand. I understand perfectly,” Hector replied, voice calm, any trace of anger faded into cool aloofness.</p>
<p>“Hector, I wasn’t - I didn’t -”</p>
<p>His words went unheeded as Hector turned and walked away, starting down the pathway to the main road. </p>
<p>He kicked the ground angrily, watching the pebbles bounce off into the grass. What did Hector think he was here for? He was a spirit-killer. It was why Briseis had given Achilles his name. Wasn’t it?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Figs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was on another stardance night when he saw Patroclus again.</p>
<p>He had given a little wave when he caught a glimpse of his betrothed, like seeing an old friend in a crowded restaurant. They had settled back and observed the gathering of the bright visitors, wary of breaking the silence. But this time, it wasn’t the stars he watched. He kept sneaking glances at Patroclus, studying the silvery-grey of his skin under the shade of the trees. He’d seen how Patroclus looked in daylight, and here he was at night, still so strange. </p>
<p>“You seem troubled tonight,” Patroclus whispered, when the stars had departed, and now shone above them in the heavens. </p>
<p>There had been much on Achilles’ mind since his last conversation with Hector. There’d been nothing but stiff silence between them the past few days, and it unnerved him more than he let on. </p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” Achilles replied. </p>
<p>“A friend of mine.” </p>
<p>A lie. </p>
<p>He couldn’t really call Hector a friend, could he? Friends laughed together, confided in each other. Hector had done none of those things. </p>
<p>“Perhaps I can be of some help.” </p>
<p>He considered this, taking Patroclus’ measure. The other seemed sincere enough, and he decided, what was the harm? </p>
<p>“I offended him, somehow. The thing is, traveling with him wasn’t even my choice. We’re forced to endure each other’s company.”</p>
<p>Patroclus gave a soft little laugh. “Sounds familiar.” </p>
<p>Achilles frowned at him. </p>
<p>They looked at each other, and Patroclus cleared his throat sheepishly. </p>
<p>“I’ve often thought about what it would be like when I met you.”</p>
<p>“And now you have,” Achilles offered.</p>
<p>“Have I?” Patroclus lifted his eyes to meet Achilles’, and they glimmered under the moonlight. <br/>“Does it really count? You are meeting me as I was. What about when you find me in the Tower? It’ll be different, then.” </p>
<p>“To be fair, you’ll have known me before I ever knew you.”</p>
<p>Patroclus smiled. “Yes, I suppose I have an unfair advantage.”</p>
<p>He hummed a little, tapping his fingers on the ground. <br/>“I used to wonder, what if I met you and didn’t like you at all?” </p>
<p>Achilles snorted, the sound masking the growing weight in his belly. He was suddenly regretful, sitting here with this stranger, who became less and less familiar every time they met. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Patroclus added, seeing Achilles’ discomfort. </p>
<p>“I know what an oath means. It is not something I wish to break.” </p>
<p>“If you met me once, and liked me well enough, then perhaps there is a chance you would like me again,” Achilles allowed. </p>
<p>A long silence stretched between them. </p>
<p>“The Tower changes people,” Patroclus replied, sorrowful. </p>
<p>His eyes lit up, suddenly. </p>
<p>“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything, but there is the fact that your best friend is a tree.” </p>
<p>Achilles stared at Patroclus, startled into sudden mirth. </p>
<p>“How dare you! Briseis is an almighty enchantress. She could rip you to shreds with her magic.”</p>
<p>“...She’s a tree.” </p>
<p>“Briseis!” Achilles called. “Attack him!” </p>
<p>They shared a moment of laughter, but the clear, ringing joy it brought faded away at the weighted silence. He found himself fidgeting with the buttons in his pocket, as he had been doing unconsciously for a while now.</p>
<p>He hadn’t heard Briseis for weeks. </p>
<p>The trees around them were inanimate, unspeaking. They even sounded different when the wind blew through their leaves, when a small animal alighted on their branches. </p>
<p>Patroclus turned to him. “When we get married I want a garden of apple trees.”</p>
<p>“Well, anything to make life more bearable, I suppose,” Achilles jested. </p>
<p>He felt his lips quiver slightly as he tried to keep the smile in place. </p>
<p>He was on the verge of tears. </p>
<p>He shuffled away slowly, at once needing to get back to the camp. This night had not been what he’d expected. There was a low, desperate need for a familiar face. A familiar voice, and shrewd brown eyes that noticed everything. </p>
<p>“You’re going?” Patroclus asked, forehead creasing slightly. </p>
<p>“I’ve offended you.” </p>
<p>“No,” Achilles said. </p>
<p>“It’s not that.” </p>
<p>“Achilles.” There was no sign of amusement at his name this time. </p>
<p>“Of course I’ll like you.” </p>
<p>Patroclus gave a hesitant smile. </p>
<p>“Forgive me if I made you doubt it.” </p>
<p>They looked at each other, and Achilles had never hoped for words to be truer. He’d never wanted to impress anyone this much, never searched so hard for a sign. </p>
<p>Anything that could tell him they would be kindred spirits, that there was something special he just hadn’t seen. He remembered that first night, how he had felt like he was walking on air. There had been a moment then, a glimmer of relief from the desperation he felt. </p>
<p>Now he stood here, his feet on the ground, blindly grasping for that moment again. <br/>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>Hector had returned from the town with two pack horses, both stallions. They looked a little worse for wear, but had been the best he could find. <br/>The two men had started speaking to each other again, at first in clipped tones, but Achilles couldn’t hold back for long. </p>
<p>“Look at you, beautiful,” he murmured at his horse, laughing as the creature nuzzled his hand, the nostrils tickling his skin. </p>
<p>“I’m going to name you Figs.” He heard a short bark of laughter from Hector’s end, and they met each other’s eyes in a hesitant acknowledgment. </p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure that’s not its name,” Hector mumbled, still sounding gruff, but his expression had softened. </p>
<p>“I’ve never had a horse before,” Achilles offered. </p>
<p>“Don’t get too attached. They’re here to carry our things. Once we get to the outer edges, it will be a good idea to leave them. The rocky land will ruin their hooves.” </p>
<p>“Grumble grumble,” Achilles replied, making a face at Hector, who frowned at him, yet the faintest trace of amusement remained in his gaze.</p>
<p>“Do you hear that, Figs? It’s alright, you and I will be the bestest of friends. Hector’s not invited.” </p>
<p>Hector rolled his eyes and fished into his own horse’s pack, coming up with a pair of old boots. They were dusty and a little rough around the edges, but Achilles could see they were well-made, of black leather. </p>
<p>“Take them off then,” Hector ordered, beckoning at Achilles’ shoes. Achilles couldn’t stop a surge of heat rising to his face as he bent to remove his shoes under Hector’s scrutinizing stare. </p>
<p>“The socks, too.” </p>
<p>His own already had a few holes in them, and were too thin to withstand a harsher climate. Hector tossed him a pair of wool socks, along with the boots. </p>
<p>They were too loose. </p>
<p>“Hmm,” Hector said, as Achilles walked around with them, unsure how to fasten the buckles. They clinked around his feet, and the awkwardness of his gait made him feel out of place. He sat down on a rock and fiddled with the buckles.</p>
<p>“Are you sure I need these?” he asked. </p>
<p>“You most certainly do. Here.” Hector came over and took the boots from Achilles, stuffing them with bits of scrap fabric and cotton. Achilles tried them on again, and they fit quite snugly. Hector leaned forwards and fastened the buckles, making quick work of it. </p>
<p>Achilles tried not to pay attention to the other man’s close proximity, but his eyes betrayed him and sneaked a glance. </p>
<p>Hector’s hands were strong, the fingers long and surprisingly elegant. His dark hair curled slightly above the ear. Achilles found his gaze glued to that spot, because if he looked further, he would see the sharp cut of Hector’s jawline, the curve of his neck. </p>
<p>No. He could look. There was no harm in looking. But by Briseis’ moon, he would not allow himself to think a single thought. <br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>He liked listening to the horses grazing. There was something about being out here, under open sky, nothing but the noises of animals and crackling flames, of Hector busily scribbling on his piece of parchment. A great calmness was within him, almost like being out at sea, the boat rocking against placid waves, its movement quieting his restless soul. </p>
<p>“What are you writing?” he found himself asking, before he’d even planned to speak. </p>
<p>Hector paused, not looking up from his parchment. Slowly, he tilted it so Achilles could see, and make out the curves and lines, what they represented. </p>
<p>“A map? I never took you for a cartographer.” </p>
<p>“I make one everywhere I go. I have dozens of them.”</p>
<p>“But why? You clearly know the way.” </p>
<p>He thought Hector wouldn’t answer, but the other man shifted so he was sitting back and facing him.</p>
<p>“Why do we write? Why do we paint? Why do the paths we take not matter at all, unless they are seen by other eyes?”</p>
<p>Hector gave a small grin, one that could not be called any word but bittersweet. </p>
<p>“If you ever find the answer to that, I would be happy to hear it.” </p>
<p>Achilles glanced at Hector. “Well … I suppose it doesn’t matter, not if you have someone to share it with. You went to all those places alone. But this time, neither of us are. Alone.”</p>
<p>He reached over and gently took the map from Hector, folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket. </p>
<p>“You don’t need this.” </p>
<p>This made Hector look at him, clear and sharp, as though seeing him for the first time. </p>
<p>“No, I suppose not,” he allowed. </p>
<p>After a moment, he spoke again.</p>
<p>“What about the places you went to, where you’re from? Did you have someone to share them with, then?”</p>
<p>Achilles fell silent, looking down at his hands.</p>
<p>“Do you have maps there, too?” </p>
<p>He didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t. </p>
<p>“There are maps everywhere,” he replied. </p>
<p>“But I still get lost.” </p>
<p>The mood had changed, slightly, and he could tell Hector had picked up on it. The other man gave a slow nod. </p>
<p>“No one likes talking about getting lost,” he reasoned. <br/>“There are things that … many of us don’t want to admit.” </p>
<p>The silence stretched out between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Before he knew it, he was seeking that spot above Hector’s ear again. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to talk about things you don’t want to,” Hector said. </p>
<p>“I’m only here as your guide.”</p>
<p>Achilles frowned. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, the words coming out in a whispered rush. </p>
<p>“I should never have treated you that way.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to apologize. I agreed to come with you.” </p>
<p>“Still. I assumed, and it was wrong of me. I didn’t even try to understand you.”</p>
<p>“I don’t make it easy,” Hector scoffed, and drew into himself, as though he was suddenly cold, despite the warmth of their campfire. </p>
<p>“You helped me when you didn’t have to. I’ve asked you for so much, and … well, I don’t know how I could ever repay you. That’s all I need to understand.” </p>
<p>Hector nodded, again, and Achilles caught the tightness of his expression easing. </p>
<p>They sat together, in their rocking boat, and let the world around them drown out the flow of words, of thoughts, that neither wanted to voice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Spirit-Killer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The months passed, and they had ventured beyond civilization. Achilles sensed this from how chilly the nights became, how the days were bathed in gloom, the sun only coming out at rare moments. He missed it, the brightness, blue skies and warmth on his skin. It had taken him weeks to get used to riding Figs, and the poor horse only tired more the further they traveled. There were no more stardance nights, instead, they fought against the fog, the blackness around them eerie as they trekked their way through the woodland. </p>
<p>“We have to be careful,” Hector had whispered, the deeper they wandered through the thick brush. </p>
<p>“There’s no telling what lives out here.” </p>
<p>Sometimes he thought he heard Briseis calling his name, but her voice was so distant, and silvery, like a bell chime. Hector had warned him not to turn around, not to answer. </p>
<p>“Your friend would know where to find you. She doesn’t need to call.”</p>
<p>It was a disturbance to the soul, the way the forest sounds echoed around him, sobs and whispers right by his ear, the brush of chilly fingertips on his arm. </p>
<p>One day he’d panicked when he thought Hector was lost to him. They always stayed close together, and the sound of Hector’s movements calmed him when the heavy isolation of the woods became too much to bear. </p>
<p>“Right, right, right,” Hector’s voice had started chanting, under his breath. He’d leaned closer to hear the other man better, thinking Hector was trying to recall the pathway. The mist gathered around his eyes, and he grabbed at Hector’s arm, so they wouldn’t be separated. </p>
<p>He held onto his guide and they walked, stepping over fallen branches, carefully avoiding ditches. </p>
<p>“Right, right, right,” Hector kept chanting, voice growing clearer, and then more distant. </p>
<p>Achilles frowned when he realized they weren’t going right at all. Hector simply led him in all different directions, and they ended up walking in circles. </p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” he gasped, pausing to get his bearings. He cupped his hands around his eyes, willing the mist to clear, but Hector kept pulling on him. </p>
<p>“Right, right, right.” The other man’s grip became more insistent, and Achilles at last saw through the mist. </p>
<p>He saw Hector’s figure walking off into the distance, far ahead. </p>
<p>“Hector!” he called, but whatever had him drew him close and echoed his voice. </p>
<p>He reached down and pried the fingers off him, desperate, skin crawling at how cold they now felt, like rods of marble. </p>
<p>“Hector!” he screamed, his voice a sharp wail now. </p>
<p>The other man’s face appeared at his side again, and then another, and then another. He was surrounded by these faces, at first glance mirror images to Hector’s, but upon looking closer … </p>
<p>He screamed, and screamed. </p>
<p>He convulsed violently at the feeling of the fingers, grabbing and pulling him in circles. </p>
<p>“Hector, Hector!” One voice, from multiple mouths. </p>
<p>“Leave me alone!” </p>
<p>He was nearly paralyzed from terror, the cold power of dozens of eyes, hollow gouges in the faces, Hector’s face. They surrounded him. It surrounded him. </p>
<p>It. They. </p>
<p>“Briseis,” he pleaded. </p>
<p>“Briseis, Briseis,” it mocked, making his voice sound distorted and high pitched. </p>
<p>It became a sort of song, the first voice blending into others, until the syllables became warped.</p>
<p>“Stop it! Stop it!” he roared, hands clawing at them, shaking them off. </p>
<p>He had begun to tire, his throat raw, when he felt arms around him. He flinched and moaned as he was dragged away.</p>
<p>“No, no, no,” he pleaded. </p>
<p>“It’s me, Achilles,” came Hector’s voice, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.</p>
<p>“Go away. Just go away!” He yelled it over and over again, in hysterics. </p>
<p>Hector was breathing heavily, trying to support Achilles’ entire body, and it was the absence of the multiple voices, the absence of the cold, and the sound of the other man’s racing heartbeat that made him open his eyes and realize it was over. </p>
<p>“Look at the state you’re in,” Hector muttered, pushing Achilles’ hair off his sweat-soaked forehead, and he could do nothing but cry out and throw his arms around the other man, real, human, Hector. <br/>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“Have you been thinking about the weapon?” Hector asked, later that night, curled up next to each other under his cloak. </p>
<p>“Let’s not talk about it,” Achilles replied, frowning, drawing the fabric closer around himself. </p>
<p>“I have a feeling why your friend hasn’t made an appearance for so long.”</p>
<p>“Hector …” Achilles sighed, and turned to give the other man a hard look. </p>
<p>They eyed each other for a moment.</p>
<p>“I would call for her soon, if I were you. You can’t skirt the issue forever.” </p>
<p>“You said it would be my decision.”</p>
<p>“You don’t realize how close we’re getting to the Tower. That little menace in the woods? Doesn’t even scratch the surface.” </p>
<p>“Why do you have to be so difficult? Can’t we just go to sleep?” </p>
<p>He felt Hector reach an arm over, then, until he was touching him. <br/>“I wouldn’t bring this up for no reason.” </p>
<p>Achilles turned so he was laying on his back, Hector pressed up against him, comfortably warm. It shouldn’t have felt so normal, to be this close to the other man, but all this time together, and that horror that had seemed to last forever… the man was a lifeline to the very earth, the one thing he thought could keep him sane. </p>
<p>“I’ll talk to her,” he finally said, eyes drinking up the small upwards quirk of Hector’s lips. <br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>He had never imagined a time when she wouldn’t come to his beck and call. When he was little, he would wait for her. He would pray for the clouds to part, so he could bask in the tiniest beam of her light. But there was never a moment when he was truly sure she would leave him be. Now, he didn’t know. Standing here waiting, the sway of the trees around him sending shivers down his spine. </p>
<p><em>Right, right, right</em>, they seemed to say, and he remembered the mouths taking on his own voice. </p>
<p>He could never get it out of his head, when he stood alone in the forest. </p>
<p>A quiet rattle brought his attention to a dried up old trunk in the distance, a treeling that had never fully grown, yet would never meet its completion. Its bark was ash, its leaves curled and withered before coming to fruition. His heartbeat stuttered as he approached it, his fingers defying his will, reaching up to trace the lines in the bark. </p>
<p>“What happened, Briseis?” his voice came out in a croak. </p>
<p>A gentle breeze made up the sound of her breathing, and slowly, he could see the leaves curl and uncurl themselves, the pulsing deep within her roots. </p>
<p>
  <em>I had forgotten … how tiring these journeys can be.</em>
</p>
<p>“Briseis!” he cried. </p>
<p>Her voice. Raspy, weary, beaten down. Still hers. </p>
<p><em>I am sorry you have been alone, my dearest Achilles.</em> </p>
<p>“You didn’t leave me behind. You said you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.” </p>
<p>He could feel the tired creak of her smile. </p>
<p><em>You have come to hear about the weapon.</em> </p>
<p>Each word, labored, but he soaked them in. A long, hard drink, after months with no water. </p>
<p>“Whatever you say, Briseis. I will do.” </p>
<p>He heard a weak chuckle, then, and her branches reached out to brush against his skin. </p>
<p><em>If only you would say the same to Hector. Poor Hector, who is only looking out for you.</em> </p>
<p>“He wants me to subdue the spirit of death on my own. Do you think I can do it?” </p>
<p><em>My dear… I wouldn’t have led you on this journey if I didn’t think you could.</em> </p>
<p>There was an empty silence, when he thought Briseis had left again, until he saw her bark start peeling itself apart. </p>
<p>“What - what are you doing? Stop! Briseis, stop!” he cried, taking the strands and trying to hold them together. </p>
<p>
  <em>I was once magnificent, Achilles. You looked out the window and saw me as I was meant to be seen. Now …</em>
</p>
<p>Her branches collapsed on themselves, the trunk splitting apart. </p>
<p><em>Take. Take of me what you will. And I will never leave you.</em> </p>
<p>His eyes watered as the full realization dawned on him. </p>
<p>The weapon. Briseis was the weapon. </p>
<p>“I can’t, I can’t! I’ll never hear your voice again,” he said, voice shaken with his tears. </p>
<p><em>I will be waiting here for you, when you are ready.</em><br/>---------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>He stormed back into the campsite, wishing he could drag Hector all the way to the clearing in the forest, where he would see Briseis in her ruin. Hector was brushing the horses, watering them, and the tranquil sight made him seethe all the more. </p>
<p>“What is it you hate about spirits so much?” he demanded, not caring that his loudness was startling the horses. </p>
<p>Hector took one look at him, mouth set in a grim line. </p>
<p>“She told you.” </p>
<p>“Why would I do such a thing? Kill the only creature who has ever been by my side, all so I can … all so I can make a weapon of her? It’s you who’s the spirit-killer, not me!” </p>
<p>“You said she wasn’t a spirit,” Hector countered. </p>
<p>The words caught in his mouth. “I didn’t - I -”</p>
<p>“You don’t even know, do you? She’s shown you a little of her powers, yet, could you even imagine the fullest extent of what she can do?”</p>
<p>“She’s an enchantress,” Achilles breathed, face flaming hot. </p>
<p>“What does that mean? Nothing,” Hector shrugged. </p>
<p>“She could have told you what she was meant for, from the very beginning. She could have told you anytime in these long months we’ve been traveling.”</p>
<p>“You’ve always been suspicious of her,” Achilles hissed. </p>
<p>“I gave her the benefit of the doubt. It was the best I could do, given my past encounters with her kind.” </p>
<p>“Oh yes, we’ve established just how much you despise -”</p>
<p>“Despise.” Hector started to laugh, though there was no humor in it. </p>
<p>“What a word. Despise.” </p>
<p>He lowered himself onto a log, patting Figs’ leg as though for support. </p>
<p>“You want to believe there are good ones among them. After all the stories … how they helped humankind. And they do, don’t they? At least, it always seems that way.”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” The anger had been replaced with a reluctant curiosity. </p>
<p>“You call me spirit-killer. Perhaps it’s time you find out who it was I killed.” </p>
<p>Achilles found himself looking at his feet. </p>
<p>“Well … I did know,” he admitted. </p>
<p>“Someone you loved.” </p>
<p>This last part came out in a whisper, so low he hoped Hector wouldn’t hear. </p>
<p>“I used to blame her for everything that happened. It wasn’t until afterwards, that I realized … she wouldn’t have been able to do it if I hadn’t been a willing accomplice.”</p>
<p>And there it was, the story. </p>
<p>“Back then, I was a friend to the spirits. Even after the curse that rocked the world, that severed all ties between spiritkind and mortals. I thought they deserved more than their reputation. I thought that humans were just as ugly, just as cruel, if not more. But still, I held them at arms’ length. I was careful of what they said to me, what they whispered in my ear. You could be friendly with them, but you couldn’t trust them. It was all I had been warned about. </p>
<p>And then, I met her. Very much like your friend the dryad, she was a spirit of nature. Warm and loving, there was nothing quite like the sound of her laughter. She was so … different from the rest. A person. I could forget what she was, and I did. I fell so deep into her enchantment, I would probably never have woken up, if it wasn’t for what I discovered, the day after our wedding. </p>
<p>I believed so fiercely that I had a life with her. Until, of course, when I left our marriage bed, and found my entire village dead.”</p>
<p>The silence was so tense, Achilles thought the sound of his own dread reverberated around the woods for Hector to hear.</p>
<p>“Can you guess what she did to them?” Hector smiled, twisted and painful. </p>
<p>At Achilles’ silence, he continued. </p>
<p>“They are good at hiding lies within the truth. But even their golden words cannot feed the illusion forever. My family, the people around me. Living, breathing humans. She took it from them, to fuel the dream she had been creating for us. Their breath, and their blood. For a lifetime of falsehoods.”</p>
<p>Hector shrugged. “Man and spirit cannot be bound in that way. There is no life for them. In her own twisted way, perhaps she did love me.”</p>
<p>Achilles rubbed his hands over his face, taking it all in. </p>
<p>“So you did to her what she had done to the people you loved. To your home.” </p>
<p>“It didn’t bring them back, in case you were wondering.” Hector’s eyes were dry, but his face chalk-white. Achilles could see exactly what it took, for the truth to be laid out so clearly.</p>
<p>“I only grew to loathe myself more, with each passing year. Another life added to the pile. And for what?”</p>
<p>“For revenge,” Achilles could have said, but what good would it do? What satisfaction was there when the act had only cemented Hector’s loss? </p>
<p>No one left on this earth, who loved him. </p>
<p>There were times like this, when words held no power. Silence was the only thing to mend the cracks, time moving it along. </p>
<p>He stepped forward, and settled down next to Hector, letting his entire weight fall on the other man, hoping it brought some small comfort. They sat like that, and as the hour passed, he felt Hector bring an arm around him, pulling him closer. </p>
<p>“I’m not a piece of furniture, you know,” Hector complained, and Achilles laid his head on the other man’s shoulder. <br/>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>Night fell and they had not left their spot next to the horses, slumped against the log. It was cold, and the whispers from the woods were at a distance, but for the first time, they didn’t bother him. </p>
<p>“Must be nice, being from a place without magic,” Hector observed. </p>
<p>“You say that without knowing anything of what that’s like,” Achilles replied.</p>
<p>“True.” Hector took a sip from his waterskin and handed it to Achilles. </p>
<p>“A world without magic, or maps. Can’t imagine.”</p>
<p>This made Achilles laugh. </p>
<p>“We do have maps!”</p>
<p>“Well, you were so tightlipped about the whole thing, I couldn’t tell. Perhaps you were in a bad mood because you realized maps are such a wondrous invention, it was so difficult not having them.” </p>
<p>“The world I grew up in had everything. Everything but what I wanted,” Achilles mused, gazing up at the sky to avoid seeing Hector’s reaction at this revelation. </p>
<p>“A world where a tree is just a tree, the stars stay where they are, and towers are just tall buildings. It sounds like paradise to me.”</p>
<p>Achilles frowned. “I suppose.”</p>
<p>“Why this place?” Hector asked. <br/>“What about it do you long for so much? We’ve been traveling together all this time, and it’s one thing I can’t understand about you.” </p>
<p>“I was born here,” Achilles replied, unable to keep the stiffness from his tone. His guards were up again, before he could keep them at bay. <br/>“I belong here just as much as you do.” </p>
<p>“I wasn’t asking about belonging.” </p>
<p>A thought crossed Achilles’ mind, seeped into him as quickly as he could get the words out of his mouth.</p>
<p>“How did you know I don’t come from this world?” </p>
<p>Hector merely stared at him in reply. </p>
<p>“Were you listening to our conversations?” Achilles cried, and jumped to his feet. </p>
<p>“There was much she said to you.” </p>
<p>“Those conversations were private! How did you - how did you even hear them?” </p>
<p>Of course Hector had heard them. He was just as attuned to the spirits as Achilles had been to Briseis. </p>
<p>“There was also much she left unsaid.” </p>
<p>“What is this, another lecture? About how <em>their kind</em> are up to no good?”</p>
<p>“Did you ever think about the things she told you? About why we’re even here on this road, to the Tower of Truth?”</p>
<p>“She never promised me anything! All I ever wanted was to find the place I call home, and she helped me! She’s still helping me! She’s willing to -” <br/>He was losing control, thinking of chopping down Briseis’ tree, making the weapon her powers could bestow him. </p>
<p>“What if he doesn’t love you?” </p>
<p>He froze, and it was like the ground had grown roots, entangled around his feet, around his body, pinning him down.</p>
<p>“What if he never loves you?” </p>
<p>The roots held him like chains, unable to break away from the terrible truth he had been afraid to face for so long. </p>
<p>Someone precious, Hector had said, all those months ago. Why would anyone go to the Tower of Truth for less? </p>
<p>Shaking, Achilles slowly shrugged off the invisible chains. If he didn’t speak of this now, he never would. He faced Hector head-on, the fury, and sorrow, and trepidation churning within him like a great whirlpool.</p>
<p>“I <em>know</em> he doesn’t love me.” </p>
<p>He bit his lip, his teeth chattering so hard his mouth seemed in a permanent sneer. </p>
<p>“You ask me these things,” he continued, although the words had become painful to let out, sharp jagged rocks cutting his lips. </p>
<p>“You ask, and you ask, and yet you have never known what it’s like, to live your whole life out of place, knowing there is somewhere else you belong.”</p>
<p>“Is it worth it?” Hector asked, softly. </p>
<p>“I would do anything.” </p>
<p>With that, Achilles turned on his heel and walked away, Hector’s stare burning a hole in his back. </p>
<p>Hector was wrong. Hector was so wrong about things he didn’t have the slightest idea about, and Achilles would prove it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Something Precious</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were not to leave the woodland until the passage to the Tower was clear. There was no telling when it would open, but Hector checked the path every day, and returned with a shake of his head. At the very edge of the forest, the trees stood together, tall pillars blocking the exit. A forest with a dead end. This was what they had led themselves into. </p><p>“What if it doesn’t open?” Achilles asked, worrying, not for the first time. </p><p>Hector eyed him and continued gathering kindling for the fire.<br/>
“It will. The forest will open for anyone who wishes to pass through it. Whether or not they survive is another question.”</p><p>Hector had warned Achilles away from the smaller trails when they were gathering food and water. The forest was a curious place, sometimes abundant with wild mushrooms, berries, and animals to kill. Other times it seemed to dry up like a well, and they would go hungry for a few days. </p><p>Not wanting another encounter like he’d had their first day there, Achilles tried to heed Hector’s instructions, for the most part. </p><p>“What was that thing?” he’d dared to ask, one day. </p><p>He didn’t need to explain any further, Hector had known exactly what he was talking about. </p><p>“I call it a mimicry demon,” Hector replied, after some thought.<br/>
“You said it had my face, that it copied your voice. Well … mimicry. That is all it knows to do.” </p><p>“What would it have done to me?” </p><p>Hector gave Achilles an appraising look, as if deciding whether it was best to continue.<br/>
“They are not creatures of thought. They wouldn’t have been able to harm you, if you had experienced it before. They are most dangerous with large groups of people. Driving travelers to insanity, walking in circles, calling out each other’s names and seeing each other’s faces. You can imagine.”</p><p>“But … why? What is it about this place? Sometimes it almost feels welcoming. Other times it feels … wrong.” </p><p>Hector frowned at this. “The forest senses the minds of its occupants. In a way, the forest becomes you. It shows you your fears, your anxiety, even your moments of happiness. It is a reflection of the mortal soul.”</p><p>“So it was because of me that the mimicry demon came?”</p><p>Hector rested his chin on his arms, deep in contemplation.<br/>
“You must have been afraid of something. Afraid of losing your way? The forest is not alive, but it absorbs what you feel, and the things that live in it … they come to feed.” </p><p>Achilles shuddered. “How many times have you been here?” </p><p>“More times than I’d care to recount,” Hector muttered. </p><p>Achilles petted Figs for comfort, the horse’s rough mane a familiar feeling under his fingertips.<br/>
“How long did you wait for the forest to allow you to leave?” </p><p>“I did not need the forest’s permission to leave. I just left.” </p><p>“Then why-” Achilles looked around him, thoughts swimming furiously.<br/>
“This is my doing too?” he questioned, unhappily. </p><p>Hector looked back at him calmly. “You aren’t ready.” </p><p>“How can I not be?” </p><p>He had come all this way, had managed to avoid the worst of the woods. Even that one afternoon, when he’d gone down an unfamiliar trail against Hector’s advice, thinking he could find berries. </p><p>It had been a quiet day, and there was a glow through the trees, even though they were so tall and dense that no sunlight could get through. He’d heard birds chirping, and the rush of a waterfall not too far away.<br/>
It was one of the good days.<br/>
He’d smiled, grabbing his food pack and waterskin, walking down the trail admiring the yellow-green aura around him. </p><p>Sometimes the forest was beautiful. It reminded him of pictures on glossy postcards, the kinds most people traveled far and wide to take. Only, this was the real thing. The humming of the insects blended into the background, and he could see the iridescent colors of dragonfly wings flitting in the distance. </p><p>It was almost dreamlike, that faint haze in his mind when he wasn’t quite awake yet, only he felt as alert as ever. His feet stumbled over the pebbly ground, and he tripped a few times. It wasn’t until he’d fallen and rolled down a small hill when he realized how loud the humming had become. </p><p>It was a low, toneless drone, and as it filled his ears the forest seemed to grow brighter, until a few branches parted and let the sunlight through. He thought he could catch a glimpse of blue sky, up there through the trees.</p><p>The trees, from which the insects swarmed, covering and feeding on the bodies of several men, a great, pulsing mass. </p><p>They had been dead for a few days, strewn across the branches like an unseen force had thrown them there. </p><p>It was that grotesque image, against the beauty of the forest, that would remain in his mind forever.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>It was the silence that awoke him, if anything. He had grown used to the sounds the forest made, the inhuman mutterings of those that lived in the trees, in the deep. He checked to make sure Hector was still next to him, the smoky debris of their extinguished campfire filling his nostrils. He placed a hand on Hector and tapped his shoulder slightly. The other man did not stir. </p><p>“Hector,” he whispered. </p><p>He froze, then, insides shriveling at the thought that something could be watching him. He had been so careful not to utter the other man’s name, in these quiet hours, when anything could jump out. The mimicry demon. </p><p>“Why is it so quiet?”</p><p>“Mm,” Hector grunted, and turned over. </p><p>He looked around him, drawing the cloak around himself. There wasn’t anything there, no movement, not even the wind. Slowly, he got up and braved some steps forward. There was something in him, something he had been waiting for. His feet walked on their own accord, searching where his mind could not. </p><p>He followed the path as if he’d taken it many times before, until he reached the glade where he and Hector liked to set traps for small animals. </p><p>They were here. </p><p>His heart gave a little leap. Even in this lonely place, haunted by creatures he could not put a name to … even here, the stars dared their sacred dance. And if they were here, then, someone else was, too. </p><p>“Patroclus?” he called, and heard a quiet chuckle. </p><p>He followed the sound of the voice, and hesitated as he saw the other man’s figure, underneath the shadows, face veiled from the sparse light. </p><p>He stood still, thinking the mimicry demon was going to make itself known again. But then, Patroclus stepped forward, the starlight hitting his features, and it was him. </p><p>Achilles managed a small smile. “Have you nothing better to do than this?” </p><p>Patroclus came to sit on the soft moss next to where Achilles was standing. He patted the ground beside him.<br/>
“You’re telling me you have a more exciting life?” </p><p>Achilles sat down, and turned to Patroclus. He reached out and poked his finger against the other man’s shoulder, suddenly bold. The air around Patroclus wavered, like he was underwater. </p><p>“Needed to make sure?” Patroclus smirked. </p><p>“I just … you always seem like you’re right here.” </p><p>They sat together in comfortable silence. </p><p>“Do you remember what it was like?” Achilles asked. </p><p>At Patroclus’ questioning glance, he continued.<br/>
“When the spirits still walked side by side with the humans. When our kingdoms were at peace.” </p><p>“How could I remember? I was a baby, then. Just like you,” Patroclus replied, although his smile was warm. </p><p>“But did you ever have someone to watch over you? Like …” Achilles paused.</p><p>“Briseis?” </p><p>He started. “You - you know what she was to me?” </p><p>“I was scared to death, when she first approached me.” </p><p>Patroclus grinned at the memory. </p><p>“Everyone knew what had happened with your father. I thought she would harm me. But she didn’t.” </p><p>He looked at Achilles, smile fading, but there was something in his gaze that Achilles thought looked familiar. Something he had felt himself, once. </p><p>He wanted to ask, so badly. </p><p><em>Do we have a chance?</em> </p><p>Only, his lips would not form the words. </p><p>“The last time I saw you, I made you feel as though you were in this alone,” Patroclus said, sounding regretful. </p><p>“No,” Achilles replied. “Please, don’t think that.” </p><p>“I did. I should have told you, but I was afraid. How do you tell someone who doesn’t know you that they have never been alone?” </p><p>Achilles stared at Patroclus, trying to guess at what he was saying. </p><p>“What words are there, to describe the moon we both looked at, the window to each other’s worlds?”</p><p>Achilles let out a breath.<br/>
“What?”</p><p>Patroclus laid on his back, eyes lifted to the sky, even though there was no sky to see, not here. </p><p>“I used to lay like this. I would see her smiling down at me, and for just a second, I would catch the smallest glimpse. That little boy, looking out the window.”</p><p>Achilles could feel his fingers clenching, his lips sealed shut. </p><p>It couldn’t be. </p><p>“That face, staring and staring, as if he looked hard enough, he would find himself here. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he knew about me, like I knew about him.” </p><p>Achilles looked down at Patroclus, a sudden tearing within him, because; he had never known. It was regret, spiked and burning, because all this time, he could have had someone, even if it was just the smallest glance.  </p><p>“You aren’t as much a stranger to me as I am to you,” Patroclus confessed. He lay there, as though a part of the land itself. </p><p>“She never told me.” </p><p>“The world you grew up in doesn’t work the same way. I always thought -” Patroclus laughed, then, a sad yet hopeful sound.</p><p>“I always thought I would be the one to rescue you, from that strange foreign land.” </p><p>He placed a hand over his eyes, perhaps to hide the deeper sorrow underneath. </p><p>“It’s stupid to think of now.” </p><p>Achilles placed a hand over Patroclus’, not caring that the skin didn’t meet, ignoring the rippling wave it sent, the pocket having been disturbed. </p><p>“I will get to you,” he said, willing the firmness into his voice. </p><p>“Wait for me, Patroclus. I will find you, and the Tower will be nothing but a distant memory behind us.” </p><p>The answering look he received clouded his thoughts, in the coming days and nights.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>“Figs wants some,” Achilles chuckled, holding his tin cup of stew away from the horse. </p><p>Hector snorted. “Horses don’t eat wild goose.” </p><p>“Are you becoming a carnivore, Figs?” Achilles called, laughing and petting him on his nose. </p><p>“That is not a sight I would like to see,” Hector added, watching them in barely concealed amusement. </p><p>“You’re getting rather good at cooking the meat,” he commented, and Achilles could have flushed with pride. </p><p>A compliment from Hector was no small thing. </p><p>“But you did all the work.” He still hadn’t gotten the hang of hunting on his own. </p><p>They ate, enjoying the meal, the sound of the horses’ huffing and shifting around adding to the cozy atmosphere. </p><p>He’d been in such a good mood these days, and Hector had picked up on it. </p><p>“It’s not such a bad place, is it?” the other man remarked, gesturing towards their surroundings.<br/>
“You just need to have some peace of mind.” </p><p>“I don’t know what that means, sometimes,” Achilles admitted. He slurped at his stew, conscious of Hector’s eyes on him. Those clear brown eyes, nearly orange when the light hit. </p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re lost. Not when we know exactly where we are. Exactly where we’re going.” </p><p>“Thinking of your maps again?” Achilles smiled. </p><p>He fumbled around his pocket, the one he had taken from Hector still kept carefully inside, folded neatly, its edges frayed from being carried around for so long. </p><p>“I haven’t seen you make one lately.” </p><p>“Well, someone told me I didn’t need it anymore.” </p><p>They looked at each other, and Achilles felt a small pang in his chest. </p><p>They had been getting along so well, as the weeks passed and the forest showed no sign of clearing the way for their departure. They were stuck in a stasis, and the worst part was, he didn’t want it to end. </p><p>As much as the forest haunted him, awake and asleep, as much as his desperate soul called for the next steps, their final road to the Tower; there was something he had gained these past few months, even in all the time they had spent in the unending woodland. </p><p>There were times when all he had was a burning desire to fulfill his destiny, bright and hot in his very being. When it burned out, there was nothing left. Briseis had chosen an empty person to lead and protect. An empty person, who had nothing, who belonged nowhere. </p><p>And then there were times when he wasn’t those things. Those rare moments throughout the day, when he could be anyone, could be anything. When he forgot, even for a little while, of what he had set out to do. This was a long trip with someone he had learned to trust, someone who gave him a little of himself every day, whether it was some small piece of knowledge, or something else.</p><p>He looked at Hector then, a long, searching look, taking in everything about the man. Because when this was all over, when they reached the Tower, everything between them was like the strands only a greater power could make something of. </p><p>Dust and wind. Nothing more. It would never be anything more, because what he was meant for lay elsewhere. </p><p>“What does it feel like not to have a map? No instructions? No rules. Just nothing but yourself,” he mused. </p><p>Hector smiled and lay back, more at ease than Achilles had ever seen him. </p><p>“Feels like this,” he said. “What do you think of it?” </p><p>Achilles had no answer. He wasn’t made to feel like this. He had a purpose. And when he had completed it, he would see that it was what he had needed. </p><p>“Well?” Hector turned to him, expression lazy and content. It was such a rare sight for the other man to be so unguarded, even during nights like this, good nights, when they were their best selves with each other. </p><p>He could say it. He could admit how much it meant to him, to live for once without inhibition, nothing but the open air and the road ahead of them; the dirt on their shoes marks of where they had been, but not telling them where to go. </p><p>“It seems a life without meaning,” Achilles said, instead, and watched with a weight in his chest as Hector’s smile faded. </p><p>They said nothing for a while, and then Hector shook his head and gathered his cloak. </p><p>“I don’t believe you mean half the things you say,” he threw out. </p><p>“No? And why wouldn’t I?”</p><p>Hector began to put out the fire, working slowly, movements unhurried. His face was a contrast to his relaxed manner; mouth turned down in a disappointed line, eyes dark underneath his frown. </p><p>“I don’t want to fight,” Achilles continued, if that would help the situation. He watched Hector sigh, the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. Then Hector strode up to him and threw the cloak over both of them, once he had settled on the ground. </p><p>“I don’t, either,” he replied, and curled up, although he didn’t look like he would fall asleep anytime soon. </p><p>“You still don’t understand me,” Achilles whispered, looking at the grass and leaves tangled in Hector’s curls, wanting to brush them away. </p><p>“Perhaps. Or perhaps someone who has been on the road longer than you’ve been in this world knows something of not having a home.” </p><p>“I’m not angry anymore.” </p><p>Achilles bit his lip.</p><p>“I used to be so angry, thinking about what I had missed. Angry at the universe, angry at myself. Angry at you, for thinking less of me.” </p><p>“I never thought less of you,” Hector replied, and tentatively put his arms around Achilles. </p><p>“I may not agree. But I have never thought you were any less of a person for wanting the same things as everybody else does.” </p><p>He nodded, and let his eyes fall shut. Quiet consolation, brewing in his core. Being able to have one night of peace, at last.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>They were gorgeous days, the few they had left before the road to the Tower was made visible to them. Whatever fears he’d had, whatever nightmares nestled in the deepest recesses of his mind, had been quelled. Perhaps he’d made his peace with Briseis. She waited for him, and he counted the days, the dread slowly growing into a kind of acknowledgment, of what she had done for him. </p><p>And the dreams. </p><p>It must have been some secret part of his heart, unlocked from the anticipation of the near future. He would forget, in daytime, of the visions that crowded him at night, but they left him shocked into the waking world. </p><p>The most secret thoughts he’d had, come to life, as real as touch, and taste, and sound. </p><p>They made him sit up in the middle of the night, glancing at Hector’s sleeping form, excitement and guilt wound together in a tight ball in his stomach. Never a moment of rest, after the one night he’d had, when he’d learned a little of someone else’s heart. </p><p>His dreams forgot those thoughts, discarded them like worthless objects. </p><p>It was Patroclus. Always Patroclus. Laying back on the grass, face tilted up towards the sky, as he had looked the last time they’d exchanged words. The same vision, every night, so vivid it must have been a glimpse of what was to come. </p><p>He didn’t know what provoked them, but Patroclus looked at him with those strange eyes, in that strange face, and he remembered how hopeful their last meeting had been. When he’d discovered there had been someone who understood. </p><p><em>What was it you yearned for, those nights you searched for me at the window?</em> </p><p>This, he wanted to say. Every step he had taken, bringing him to this. An oath between them, more powerful than the curse that had cast him away. An oath enough to join two kingdoms. </p><p>In this vision he knew Patroclus, had known him for a long time. They were in his father’s palace, once again the shining structure it had been, rebuilt and restored. </p><p>He followed Patroclus, laughing through the hallways, avoiding pillars and opening doors. They were wild and carefree, no longer burdened by the spirit of death and his ancient words. </p><p>“Did you think you could catch me?” Patroclus huffed, bending over to catch his breath, face shining with glee. </p><p>“I caught you a long time ago,” Achilles reminded him. </p><p>“And again, every day,” Patroclus grinned, shoving at Achilles playfully.<br/>
“One of these days we will be old, and our knees will kill us when we try to run.”</p><p>“Not today,” he said, and took Patroclus into his arms, bringing their lips together.</p><p>“You,” Patroclus voiced, running the pads of his fingers over Achilles’ chin. </p><p>“You have the kind of mouth only good for kissing.” </p><p>“Only?” Achilles smirked, and dragged the other man until they reached their chambers, unceremoniously tossing him onto the bed.<br/>
“I don’t think you’ll be saying that once I’m done with you.” </p><p>It was an ordeal getting their clothes off. He was so impatient he tore at Patroclus’ shirt, and the buttons flew off, scattering all over the bed. </p><p>“Now look what you’ve done,” Patroclus laughed, looking down at his damaged shirt.</p><p>Achilles had stiffened, suddenly taken back to another place and time. The buttons all over the bed. Shiny and round, hard in his fingers. Once mistaken for something else, payment for a hot dinner. </p><p>“What is it?” Patroclus asked, and he shook it off. </p><p>“Nothing,” he said. It didn’t matter, because Patroclus was waiting for him, and they were in his father’s kingdom. </p><p>He bent and caught the other man’s face, until their mouths were joined together again, hands working to get rid of the remaining clothes. </p><p>“So many layers,” Achilles complained, and made a triumphant sound when Patroclus was bared beneath him. </p><p>“Come here,” Patroclus said, the same mirthful expression, but there was no mistaking the affection in his eyes when he pressed their bodies together, enjoying the way they moved against each other. </p><p>“I want you to do to me what you did last time.”</p><p>“You’ll have to remind me,” Achilles breathed, and let out a rush of breath as Patroclus reached between them, taking their lengths together and grinding into him. </p><p>“Does this refresh your memory?”</p><p>He moaned and pressed his lips to Patroclus’ shoulder, feeling the softness of the skin there. So inviting, the sight below him, Patroclus spread out on the sheets, which were crumpled around him, saying nothing; but his eyes … they spoke all the words he left unvoiced. </p><p>Was one kiss ever enough? Again and again, he could have said, but he stooped down and took more, as they were his for the taking. He could count the number of times he had everything he wanted in the span of a single moment, but with Patroclus, the number was infinite. </p><p>“Just like this,” he said, slipping into that tight heat, watching Patroclus’ face change, mouth contorted, breath coming out in sharp pants. </p><p>“You like it this way, don’t you?” </p><p>At Patroclus’ insistent nod, he buried his face further into the other man’s shoulder, finding his own completion as his hips continued to rock, feeling Patroclus’ legs parting further underneath him, and around. </p><p>They would always fall asleep right afterwards, sweat-covered and spent, and he drew the thin sheet around them, nestling his head against Patroclus, feeling his mind drift to the clouds. </p><p>“Sleep,” he would hear, and he closed his eyes and let it take him, his thoughts slowly fading.<br/>
---</p><p>It must have been evening, the sun lowering in the sky until its late rays hit him square in the face, and his eyes were open. </p><p>“You should have woken me up,” he mumbled, rolling over to rest his cheek against that warm chest again. </p><p>The answer was a quiet scoff, one that made the flesh beneath him lurch, and he ran over it with his hand, all that naked skin. Familiar, like home. </p><p>He pressed a kiss against it, looking up as he did so. </p><p>The face that looked back at him was Hector’s.<br/>
------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The end of the dream had jerked him awake. Like a book with pages he had never thought to see the end of, he felt his pulse start to race as he was plunged back into darkness, scrambling around to get a sense of where he was. Grass, beneath him, soft and scratchy. Cool earth, and the night air. </p><p>He rose, feeling a sweat form on his brow, a fever within him, hot and cold, an emptiness in his stomach. There was something wrong. He was off-balance, and something had happened to place him there.<br/>
--</p><p>He was alone, in the middle of the glade where he had last met with Patroclus.<br/>
“Patroclus?” he called. </p><p>No answer. There wouldn’t be an answer, only the smallest whisper of fear. </p><p>He stumbled, dragging his feet, eyes roving around him in a panic. He had forgotten the way back. Could he remember? If he only closed his eyes and tried to picture it in his head.</p><p>He walked, and walked, in circles around the glade, and then he was crying out. How had he gotten here? Had he sleepwalked?<br/>
--</p><p>It seemed like hours before he made it back to the camp. He must have been gone for a while, because the fire was lit, and Hector sat up, alert. </p><p>The sight of the other man twisted and tugged at his insides, a raw, scathing sensation. </p><p>They met each other’s gazes and Hector stood, cautiously approaching.</p><p>“I thought I’d wait a little longer before I came to get you.”</p><p>They took each other’s measure the way they had done the night they first met. </p><p>“Well? Are you going to come back to bed?” Hector asked, looking tired and wary at the same time. </p><p>Achilles stared back, stunned. </p><p>“I was … gone for ages.”</p><p>Hector gave him a considering look, brown eyes unhappy.</p><p>“Longer tonight than other nights,” he confirmed. </p><p>He seemed to hesitate, half turning to the cloak on the ground, half turning back to Achilles.</p><p>“Do you … go to see him?”</p><p>“I …” he couldn’t find the words. How could he name the dreams he’d had, when thoughts from the waking world had found their way in? </p><p>“What would you do if I asked you to stop?” </p><p>He frowned. Why was Hector asking such a thing?</p><p>“Stop? Stop dreaming?”</p><p>“Every night I have woken to the sound of you leaving. I wait up for you, and you always come back. Sometimes I think, there is something you’re looking for that you can’t get with me.”</p><p>“With … you?” Achilles let out a huff, ran his hands through his hair. </p><p>“And what could I get, with you?” </p><p>The look Hector gave him could have torn the inside of his chest to shreds, so… so <em>heartbroken</em>. </p><p>“Then …” Hector started, taking a deep breath. </p><p>There was something very wrong indeed. </p><p>“Then why did you … why did you say you wanted me?”</p><p>He was falling apart, hollowed out.</p><p>Hector saw the look in his eyes, and the horror of his realization stretched out between them. </p><p>“You don’t know,” he whispered, and there it was. </p><p>The ground underneath, caving in, and Achilles was falling, Hector a distance away, unable to catch him. </p><p>He saw the way Hector withdrew. The months, chiseling away at that stoic, matter-of-fact calm. </p><p>The many, many moments he had missed. And perhaps, would never know. </p><p>“I thought I was dreaming,” he gasped out, nearly a plea. </p><p>But Hector shook his head, and Achilles could see just how much he had hurt him. </p><p>“Couldn’t you see that I was real?” Hector asked, voice smaller than Achilles had ever heard it. </p><p>He bit his lip, eyes staring daggers at him. </p><p>“All those nights that we made love?”</p><p>He was starting to breathe hard and fast, so much that Achilles almost went to him, wanting so badly to touch him. </p><p>But Hector had backed away, and Achilles didn’t think the touch would be welcome again. </p><p>“I see you,” Achilles said, and the tears blurred his vision.<br/>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He tore through the woods, feet making wild tracks through the path, not caring about the sounds. Not caring about whatever he woke up in the depths of the forest. </p><p>“Briseis!” he screamed. </p><p>He reached her clearing, and stood before her, eyes seeing red, blood racing. </p><p>“Come out.” </p><p><em>Achilles</em>. Her voice was faint, like the last murmur before a deep sleep. </p><p>“You took something from me,” he seethed.</p><p><em>I have taken nothing that you didn’t want me to take.</em> </p><p>“You let me see him!” he roared. </p><p>“You made me dream of him. You were going to make me love him.” </p><p><em>I cannot make you do anything, dearest.</em> </p><p>“Was everything a lie? Was everything you did -” </p><p>He brushed a tear away, furious at himself.</p><p>“To erase the one thing I had that was real? The one person who could have loved me?” </p><p>She did not answer.</p><p>“You have no idea what you have taken from me, Briseis.” </p><p>No matter how much he begged, how much he pleaded, her silence remained. </p><p>He screamed her name again and again, but the memories he had of Hector were lost. He had learned something precious, something unnameable. And just like that, it was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Tower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was time. He had been sitting on this for too long, and Briseis’ silence spoke for him. Perhaps he would remember her as she had been to him, and not as the lies she had fed him. Try as he might, he could not think about her without some of the love that had grown his entire life, however tainted it was now. </p><p>Hector said nothing when it was time to cut down the tree. They trudged into the clearing in silence, as they had been the past few days. No words between them, no glances. </p><p>Hector carried his axe over his shoulder, face grim as they approached Briseis’ withered form. It was all Achilles could look at, the gleam of shiny steel, the swing of the handle as it hacked into her trunk, silencing her for good. </p><p>She lay broken beneath him, and for just a second he could picture the warm caress of her laughter, the way she had shone on him, loving and protective.  He bent and picked up the fallen trunk, felt the bark peel away under his fingers. Beneath it lay a dark wood, smooth and shiny, its lines as thin as strands of hair. It felt cool on his skin.</p><p>Hector stretched out a hand and Achilles placed the wood into it. They looked at it, avoiding each other’s gazes. Achilles turned back to the part of Briseis that remained rooted in the soil, thinking some small shard of her had been kept alive. But the chopped edge had blackened, its bark falling away to reveal white, all life sapped from the source. </p><p>He stared at her - it - for a long time. He could have rooted himself to the spot, the way his knees dug into the earth, the way his body held still like a rock. He expected a great rush of emotions, but none came. He was numb, looking at the ruins, what was left of someone who had been his only comfort for so long. </p><p>“She deceived me.” It came out, before he could stop it. </p><p>He felt Hector’s eyes rest on him. That dark gaze was becoming too much for him to bear.</p><p>“What memories can I have of her, except these last ones she left me?” </p><p>He could almost hear Hector’s trepidation. Then the sound of his footsteps, soft against the grass and soil. A hand was placed on his shoulder, and before he knew it, his face was pressed into Hector’s side, and the numbness was going, swept aside like it had only been a mask. </p><p>“This,” came Hector’s voice, and the dark wood of her tree returned to his hand. </p><p>“This is what you have of her. The memories will be yours to make.” </p><p>It made Achilles look up at him, at this man he had let down so severely. It made the first tears rise, spilling over in hot trails down his cheeks. </p><p>“What if I never forgive her?” </p><p>Hector held his gaze, a quiet acknowledgment of the real question underneath. </p><p>“Perhaps you will. Perhaps you won’t. And perhaps … you can believe that she did have your best interests in mind.” </p><p>Hector let him go, then, and Achilles wanted to scramble after him. </p><p>He wanted to say … </p><p>He wanted to do … </p><p>He wanted. </p><p>That was all he knew. </p><p>They brought the darkwood back to the camp, and the trees around them seemed to shift, to part. He could sense it, the pathway out of the forest clearing out at last.<br/>
----</p><p>Hector spent the rest of the day carving the wood, shaving off the pieces as thinly as he could until it formed a new shape. </p><p>“Are you sure you want me doing this?” he asked, but Achilles had nothing better to offer. He handed Hector his tools, swept away the debris. And watched, as within Hector’s hands, the bow came to being. </p><p>It could not have been anything but inanimate, yet the way it changed at his touch, warm one second and cool the next, suggested something of sentience.<br/>
He turned it over in his hands, admired the way Hector had transformed it. Dead and downcast, into something of beauty, from its curve to the satisfying twang of its bowstring. </p><p><em>Never leave you behind</em>, he thought. In a way, perhaps she hadn’t.<br/>
---------</p><p>They had packed in a haste, Figs and Hector’s horse saddled up with their belongings. Achilles took one last look around him, willing a last call, a gathering of voices, some trace of the life within the forest that he had become familiar with. For the first time, nothing but still air answered him. A last imprint, an image of the forest he had grown to treasure, captured in his mind before they departed. </p><p>Green-yellow in its beauty, the trees so tall they blocked out the sky. A wonder of nature, yet lifeless, the longer he looked.<br/>
One of those postcards indeed.<br/>
Perhaps it was all the forest had ever been, and he hadn’t noticed, so caught up in the frenzy of his own mind. </p><p>Yet he looked at Hector, and back at the path they had come from, and knew that there was an honesty in what he had experienced. Mimicry demon, dead men in the trees. </p><p>“We should go,” Hector mumbled, and Achilles looked at his bow, and at Hector’s hands. </p><p>Spirit-killer, he had called him. Were things ever as they seemed? </p><p>Figs whickered, and curiously, it was that sound that made him feel the first stirrings of despair. What if he never returned to the forest again? What if he would never be able to find it? It made his knees tremble, his feet unable to take the steps to the last road. This place that had frightened the wits out of him, made his skin crawl at night, and witnessed the rare moments of his happiness that had been removed from his memory. </p><p>This place, a lasting monument to the few instants of truth he had managed to live, on this long journey. </p><p>“Come.” Hector held out Figs’ reins, and Achilles took them, hand shaking. Hector noticed and pursed his lips, eyeing Achilles with worry. </p><p>“This is the last I’ll see of this place,” Achilles said, and his voice cracked. </p><p>Hector frowned, but did not deny the statement. </p><p>“You don’t seem happy to leave,” he offered, although the words fell flat. </p><p>“I don’t know why I’m not,” Achilles managed, before his voice thickened. </p><p>“I should be. I should be pleased.” </p><p>“You don’t have to feel what you don’t feel,” Hector replied, and Achilles looked back at him, pulse quickening. </p><p>His vision blurred, he had moved faster than he had realized, and Hector’s face was in his hands, their mouths pressed together. </p><p>He felt Hector stiffen at the touch, felt him lift his arms, unsure whether to reciprocate. But he kissed him, and before long, he was being kissed back. An instant of truth, that was his again. </p><p>Had it felt like this, the first time they had done it? Had he been pulled into Hector’s arms, lips moving with his in raw hunger, hands finally finding that spot above the ear, where the hair curled? Had his chest felt full, his face warm all the way down to his neck? Did he think, at that moment, that this man was his, even if it didn’t last? </p><p>It was a moment so surreal in its intensity, that he could imagine how nights and nights of this had captured Briseis’ attention; so much that she took them from him, replacing the realness with empty dreams. </p><p>They were back in their sleeping spot, Hector shrugging out of his clothes, and a painful tug in his mind wondered how he had ever forgotten this. Here was a taste of what he had lost, Hector’s body against him, around him, dark curls around his fingers, and those eyes half-lidded with desire. </p><p>His clothes had not even been fully discarded, restricting his movements as he took Hector on the hard ground, where they had been making love all those nights, except this - there was something he needed, something in him that couldn’t be sated until he knew, until he had regained a little of what he had lost. </p><p>He could hear his own harsh breathing, could seize the exact moment the feverish light in Hector’s eyes dimmed with brutal realization. </p><p>They lay together, under the yellow-green light of the now-lifeless woods, the horses kicking impatiently at the ground. Then Hector rose, securing his clothes around himself, moving with a shaky certainty that betrayed the aftermath of their actions. </p><p>They stood, the rift between them even wider, and before Achilles could start to mull over what he had done, Hector turned back to him. </p><p>“You are unspeakably cruel. To yourself, most of all.” </p><p>Those words pierced him, and stayed there, even as he mounted his horse and started on the path out of the forest.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>They had reached the rocky mountains that stretched out over the landscape, a treacherous final path to the Tower. The road eventually became too narrow and winding for the horses. Hector decided it was time they leave the horses behind. </p><p>“If we’re lucky, they’ll still be here when we come back,” he said, although he didn’t sound certain. </p><p>They took what they needed, Achilles carefully slinging his bow over his shoulder. He paused and took a last look at Figs, the old horse that had served him so well. He leaned against the creature, patting his nose and his mane. </p><p>“See you again, Figs,” he said, and turned away when the horse made a soft nickering sound. </p><p>Hector was already starting down the pathway, stepping cautiously and ignoring the steep fall to the valley below, on the other side. Achilles hurried after him. </p><p>They walked for what felt like hours, and at one point the path became so narrow they could only step one foot at a time, hands tracing the side of the mountain carefully to keep their balance. Achilles tried hard not to peer over the edge, at the fog below that betrayed how long of a drop it really was. </p><p>“Keep your eyes on the path,” Hector whispered, and he obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut every now and then to clear his mind. It became colder and colder, until he could see his own breath, and the material of his clothes was not enough. They shivered, shuffling carefully, until they reached the last part of the trail and had to lower themselves onto their hands and feet, crawling through the brush. </p><p>Achilles clutched his bow close, the feel of its wood providing the smallest consolation. He imagined Briseis murmuring to him in reassurance, giving him the strength he needed to move forward, although he was trembling with fear and exhaustion. He was covered in sweat by the time they came to the end of the mountain pass. </p><p>He collapsed into a heap, chest heaving, throat dying for water. That was before he saw what lay before them. </p><p>It was a maze, of sorts, a labyrinth, if one could call it that. Smoke and ash, lying in piles below him, stretching out in a vast expanse. The longer he looked the more confused he felt, mind swirling at the patterns the smoke made. The way it rose up and swirled, the way it changed positions; he found himself staring at it, trying to figure out where it began and ended. </p><p>“There,” Hector motioned, and he gave a start when his eyes adjusted, and the great structure loomed above them, right in the center of it all. </p><p>The Tower he’d seen in his dream. </p><p>Had Briseis planted that, too? It was so tall he couldn’t see the top of it, its roof must have reached the clouds. It stood among the ashes, a lone structure, where not even heaven or earth could touch. </p><p>It must have been several minutes before he snapped out of it. The Tower, it took up his entire vision, as though it was the only thing in the world. Who could tell how long it had stood? Who could look away from the walls that captured the darkness, the way other stones might reflect the light? It was not in the middle of the mountains and sky, rather, they parted ways for it. The threshold for spirit and mortal. A great doorway, closed, until someone learned to open it. </p><p>In broad daylight, his eyes began to water from the sheer force of the sight before him, that had stalked his thoughts since the beginning. This was the place where he would fulfill his destiny. A long-time enemy, finally confronted. </p><p>“He knows I am here,” he whispered to himself, even though he didn’t, not really. The Tower was forbidding in its entirety, but gave no sign of the spirit’s presence. </p><p>He looked down at his feet, a short climb downwards to the maze of smoke below. Then it would be a matter of bravery. Could he bear it with his will, tracing his path through the blackness, ashes sticking to his skin, until he made it to the Tower’s stone wall? He started to move, and felt a hand holding him back. </p><p>“Do you think to go unprepared?” Hector asked, scowling at him as though he were the stupidest being in existence. </p><p>Hector jerked his head at the maze. </p><p>“What, were you going to walk right through that?”</p><p>“That … was the plan,” Achilles muttered, voice small. </p><p>Hector crossed his arms, face pinched as though he had a headache. </p><p>“The smoke is not the obstacle. Why do you think there are so many ashes down there?” </p><p>When Achilles had no answer, Hector stooped and picked up a pebble. Balancing it in his hand, he swung his arm back and hurled it over the edge, where it flew through the air and tumbled into the smoke. Before it had even touched the ground, a column of fire burst through from below, a geyser that shot all the way up to the sky, incinerating anything around it, making the air putrid and dry. </p><p>Hector raised his eyebrows at Achilles, who could only keep staring. </p><p>“How are we going to get through that?” he asked, feeling his insides wither with every passing second. He looked at the piles of ashes and felt sick. Perhaps if he looked closer, he would be able to see the white sheen of bone. </p><p>“We’re not. <em>You</em> are,” Hector said. </p><p>He looked at the bow slung over Achilles’ shoulder. </p><p>“It’s important you don’t let go of it,” he added softly. </p><p>“Her powers remain, but only if you hold on to them.” </p><p>Achilles glanced down at the darkwood, feeling his brow crease in bewilderment. If there was anything that would burn first, surely it would be that. Yet … she had been the eternal weaver, had she not? Perhaps it made sense that her last form, no matter what it inhabited, still wasn’t as it appeared on the surface. </p><p>“Dust and wind,” he murmured, in wonder.</p><p>“Whatever you could make of it, Briseis, I hope it is not you who becomes dust and wind.” </p><p>They got to work, tearing off strips of cloth and soaking them with water, which Hector tied around Achilles’ mouth and nose, layer by layer. He took off his cloak and wrapped Achilles in it, standing back to get a good look. Still unsatisfied, he reached over and took a lock of Achilles’ hair in his hand, examining the golden strands. </p><p>“If this catches on fire …” he started. </p><p>“Then it goes,” Achilles replied. </p><p>He didn’t know where the resolution in his voice came from. He exchanged a look with Hector, who still had a hand in his hair. He felt the fingers tighten, pulling a little at his scalp, and the sensation made him sigh in regret. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>He took Hector’s hand and laced his fingers through it. </p><p>“I’m sorry for what I -” </p><p>He ran a hand over his face, agitated. </p><p>“For everything,” he eventually got out. </p><p>Hector was silent for a long time, although his hand gently stroked through the locks of hair.</p><p>“Come away with me,” he said, and Achilles swore he felt his heart stop at the words. </p><p>“What?” he gasped. </p><p>“We could be out of here by nightfall. We could go anywhere. Anywhere in the world.” </p><p>Hearing this caused a sinking in his chest, all the way down to his gut. Bitter want was all that remained inside him. For all they had been through, this was it. They had reached their final destination, and he didn’t even know what it meant to him anymore. </p><p>He tried to think, tried to shape the words in his head.</p><p><em>Stay. Belong.</em> </p><p>Face the spirit of death, and fulfill his destiny. He tried to picture the topmost room of the Tower, where Patroclus waited. If anybody waited there at all. </p><p>“We could have something real,” Hector continued, and his voice this time was pleading. </p><p>“It wouldn’t be perfect,” he said, and Achilles closed his eyes at the crack he heard in it.</p><p>“But it would be real.” </p><p>His hand was gripping Hector’s so tight, and he realized the tears had slipped through, running down his face. They stood like that, the Tower behind them, the ashes waiting. </p><p>“I used to be afraid of how much I needed you,” Achilles sobbed, at last. </p><p>“Did you know?” </p><p>Hector nodded, bending his head, because there didn’t even need to be an answer. Achilles had answered the call long ago, and even now at his darkest hour, refused to let it go. </p><p>“I’ve needed you for a long time. Please don’t leave me alone.” </p><p>He wiped his face almost violently, a hard brush of the hand, and forced himself to meet Hector’s eyes, to take in all of it. </p><p>“You never needed me. You never even needed Briseis. No, you never needed anyone, Achilles. Not to lie to yourself.” </p><p>Achilles sank to the ground, the weight of Hector’s statement a burden, yet at the same time, it was as if he had been set free. </p><p>Hector stayed, and when they’d had time to recover, he took out his knife. Achilles watched as the locks of his hair fell around him, bright strands muddied by the dirt and loam. Hector wrapped his shorn head in more wet cloth. </p><p>“Off you go, then,” he whispered. </p><p>It was a steep climb down, and he paused for a second, looking at Hector’s figure above him, wondering if this choice marked the gravest loss of his life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Three Questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: Disturbing imagery, reference to suicide.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was impossible to avoid every fire. They surged upwards, out of nowhere, and he felt the bile rise to his throat as he realized his feet were trekking the ashes behind him, scattering them, a feeling of wrongness with each step. The sound hurt his ears, even as his eyes were blinded by the white heat. It singed the fine hairs of his face, made Hector’s cloak feel like an incineration chamber. </p><p>One could go mad, among the flames, and he wondered if he would be another pile of ashes, unrecognizable from the others. But Hector’s words rang true, and the fire did not burn him, although he didn’t think he would ever feel anything but its heat again. His hands were claws around the bow, waiting for the moment it would catch aflame, but it stayed sturdy and cool. </p><p>There was no path to follow, not even one of Hector’s maps could have shown him where he needed to go. Just endless stumbling, jumping back from fright, until he was so sluggish he let his feet lead the way, mind a haze.<br/>
---</p><p>He hardly realized when he reached the stone wall of the Tower. The rough brick scratched against his skin, and he slumped against it, teeth sucking at the cloth around his mouth for any last trace of moisture. It was the shadows that drove him back, that roused his mind again. The maze of fire was behind him, and he had survived. </p><p>He looked up at the wall, examined the slotted stones that it comprised. He slung the bow over his shoulder again, and gulped in uncertainty at the long way up. He had made it this far. What was another threat? He fitted his hands between the stones and braced his feet against the wall, bringing his whole body up and catching the next stones above him. </p><p>He could do this. If he kept at it, and didn’t look down, he would make it to the top, eventually. </p><p>There was nothing welcoming about the Tower, but it was not a weapon of itself. There were no traps on the outer wall, nothing that couldn’t be overcome by sheer force of will. It depended on him. Like the forest, it was his own fear that became the obstacle, that attacked his thoughts and rendered him incapable. He would not let it happen this time. He had given up too much. It was time to face what lurked within the Tower, and complete his journey.<br/>
---</p><p>His thoughts kept returning to what Briseis had told him, as he climbed. This was where he would find the answers he seeked. </p><p>The answers. The answers he seeked.</p><p>He made it a chant in his head, even as his limbs threatened to give out, even as the back of his neck prickled the higher up he went, ears bursting in pain at the drop in pressure. </p><p>He thought of the inhuman voice that had cursed his father. The spirit, who awaited him, and Patroclus. Strange, foreign Patroclus, whom he had never spoken to in his life. His future lay ahead of him, and it was this that drove him further.<br/>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>“I’m here,” he gasped, as he tumbled through the window. </p><p>This was it. He lay over the edge, drinking in the sight. It was exactly as it had been in his dream, nothing but emptiness below, familiar sky overhead. </p><p>He peered around, although he knew the chamber held no light, except what came through the window. </p><p>“I’m here!” he called again, and quailed at the sound of strangled laughter that emerged from his throat. </p><p>He had really made it. He was here, and he would break the curse, once and for all. </p><p>“Patroclus?” he managed, hesitantly. He walked further into the chamber, knees weak, his lungs would not get enough air. </p><p>“Hello?” </p><p>He looked around, but there was nothing much to see. A bare chamber, its few pieces of furniture abandoned and covered in dust. It looked like such an ordinary room, at first glance. Yet there was a quality to it, as though no life had inhabited it for a long time, forgotten, desolate.</p><p>“Hello,” came a voice, and it startled him, the way it came from nowhere, right up close. It echoed slightly, sound bouncing off the walls, and there was a tiny giggle that followed. </p><p>“Who’s there?” he asked, eyes widening, searching. </p><p>The chamber was empty. There was no door, no way out except the window. He looked again at its contents, wondering if a person could be hidden somewhere, but it seemed clear he was alone. </p><p>“Come to me, dearest,” the voice said again, and he froze. It was too wrong, too off-pitch, a mockery of the words that had brought him here. He shuddered as he remembered his first day in the forest, the things that lurked within it. </p><p>“Stop it,” he told himself, smacking the side of his head.<br/>
“This is all you. It can sense your fear.” </p><p>He took a deep breath, quieting the race of his thoughts, and imagined the vision that Briseis had shown him, the creature that had emerged from the darkness, so much like a man. </p><p>“I know you’re here.” He straightened and scanned the room once more. </p><p>“I have come to face you.” </p><p>At no answer, he drew his bow and held it at his side, bracing himself. </p><p>“Where have you hidden my betrothed?” </p><p>And suddenly, he could feel its presence. An awareness, like a pair of eyes that had been nudged out of sleep, and could now see him. It drenched him through to the bone, that heavy, sharp stillness. </p><p>“Spirit of death,” he muttered, trembling slightly as he invoked it. </p><p>“Where have you hidden my betrothed?” </p><p>And then it was fully awake, and if he had any hairs on his skin still, they would have been standing straight. </p><p>In a way, the fear made him bold. </p><p>“Where is he?” he yelled, drawing an arrow and stringing the bow. </p><p>“Are you sure you want to know?”</p><p>This time, the voice was clear and strong, coming from right behind him. His stomach clenched as he whirled around, because he knew that voice.</p><p>“How did you get here?” he demanded. </p><p>He glanced at the window and back at Hector, who was untouched, clothing still in place, no evidence of having been singed by the fire. </p><p>Hector’s eyes were drawn to the bow. His lips quirked up, slightly, and he met Achilles’ gaze. The knowledge in his eyes, it made Achilles frown in confusion. </p><p>He looked at the bow, and at Hector, at the burning truth before him. </p><p>“How?” he whispered, astonished, blood slowed down until what ran in his veins was ice. </p><p>Hector stared back at him, and tilted his head slightly.<br/>
“That was never for me,” he replied, indicating the bow. </p><p>“Then what is it for?” Achilles hissed, fist clenching around it, he could tear the wretched thing in half, the weapon Hector had crafted, all for - for nothing now, it seemed. He was so tired. </p><p>“All that talk about going away with you,” he said, and thought he caught a glimpse of sorrow on Hector’s face.</p><p>“You’re the reason I never had a home.” </p><p>He willed his face not to crumple, to keep his composure, but it was Hector. There was a pain in his chest so deep, he couldn’t imagine where it had come from. Hector was different from Briseis. They had sat together, eaten together, slept together. Hector had protected and guided him in a way that Briseis had never even been able to fathom. </p><p>“I am not the one to blame for your choices,” Hector replied. </p><p>His voice was terribly calm, and for an instant, there was a hint of his face from Briseis’ vision, the being that had been sent from the netherworld to punish Achilles’ father. Beautiful, and frightening. As close to a man as a spirit could be. </p><p>“The so-called man who hated spirits,” Achilles spat, and Hector laughed. It made him start, there was nothing resentful about it, only true amusement. </p><p>“There were times I felt that way about my kind,” Hector admitted. He drew closer to Achilles, and - there really wasn’t anything different about him. </p><p>“You <em>knew</em> how much it meant to me,” Achilles insisted, feeling his eyes narrow, vision going red. </p><p>“Where are you keeping him?” </p><p>Hector looked back, the faintest sheen of his own wrath showing. </p><p>“Why, you <em>are</em> afraid of me,” he acknowledged. </p><p>“Just not for the reasons you keep telling yourself. What was it? That you felt something for me? That for a moment, there was something that called to you more than your so-called destiny?” </p><p>Achilles hesitated for a moment. He looked in Hector’s eyes, searching, for the mockery, the resentment. It just wasn’t there. All deceptions laid aside. This was the essence of the Tower. </p><p>“So what if I did?” he countered, voice thick. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter. There was always something larger than the both of us, something more important. I’m not going to let a moment of weakness stop me from what I set out to do at the start.”</p><p>Hector shook his head. “You want something I can’t give you.”</p><p>“No?” Achilles demanded. “Well, where is he then? If you can’t give him to me, then show me!” </p><p>“You’re sure that’s what you want?” Hector asked. </p><p>His expression was grave. </p><p>“Achilles.” </p><p>In that name, all the questions arose again, the secret, hidden desires. <em>Come away with me. We can go anywhere we want. Not perfect, but real.</em> </p><p>Achilles shook with the effort, turning away from those questions, a hand shielding his face, like one might against the sun. </p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p>Hector turned his face away in barely concealed disappointment. He started to circle Achilles, feet soundless against the dusty stone floor. </p><p>“Very well. You will answer three questions. If you answer truthfully, I will let you go.” </p><p>“That was never part of the deal,” Achilles replied, enraged. </p><p>Hector lifted his eyes to the ceiling, as though he hadn’t heard. </p><p>“You came to face me, messenger of death, master of the Tower. You are on my territory, and abide by my rules.” </p><p>Achilles bit his lip, looking down at his bow again. He could - he wouldn’t. Hector had said it wouldn’t work on him, and there were no lies spoken while they were here. </p><p>“Do you agree?” Hector pressed.</p><p>Achilles let out a groan, running his fingers over his wrapped head.<br/>
“Fine,” he gritted out. “I will answer.”</p><p>Hector smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Should you fail to speak the truth, you will never see your betrothed again, and be condemned here for all eternity.” </p><p>“Ask.” </p><p>Hector clapped his hands, and the torches on the walls ignited, casting a low, orange light. </p><p>“First question,” he said, and looked straight at Achilles. </p><p>“Where is your true home?” </p><p>Achilles frowned. Why was that even a question? Hector waited, patient and still. </p><p>“My father’s kingdom.” </p><p>Hector pursed his lips. “A lie.” </p><p>The Tower started to shake, its walls emitting a low rumble. Achilles saw bits and pieces of its stone crumbling and falling to the ground. </p><p>“It is the truth,” he said, baffled. </p><p>Hector shook his head, taking a seat in a worn out armchair.<br/>
“You know that is not so.” </p><p>“This was why I was brought here!” Achilles yelled, frustration overtaking him.</p><p>“Because this land is my home, the place of my birth!”</p><p>Hector stared back at him, cold as granite.<br/>
“I’m surprised the lies haven’t burned your tongue out by now.” </p><p>“It is <em>not a lie</em>!” </p><p>He raged, on and on, until he was nothing but a sobbing, pleading mess. How could one question hold such power? His true home? His home was everything he had worked for, every step from barren outcountry to haunted woodland, every step with his enemy by his side, disguised as a friend. </p><p>He closed his eyes to summon the memories to his head. His arrival here, Briseis his constant companion. His first vision of Patroclus, a stranger on the street. Hector, and the road to the Tower. Walking, and riding Figs, and sleeping curled up under Hector’s cloak on those chill nights. </p><p>All the while, his heart in pursuit of a greater purpose. Rescuing Patroclus, restoring his father’s legacy. </p><p><em>Tell the truth</em>. The voice came out of Hector’s mouth, and it sliced through his conjurings, the inhuman sound that had emerged from the spirit of death, cursing a king for his folly. </p><p>“I <em>am</em> telling the truth,” he insisted, the pictures so vivid in his mind, the horses galloping, the song of the birds in the forest clearing. </p><p>
  <em>If you do not, I will have to show you.</em>
</p><p>“Wait,” Achilles gasped. </p><p>“Wait, no, please.” </p><p>But already, the perfect images were curling away into a fog, parted by the encroaching shadows. </p><p>“No, no, no,” he pleaded, his strength gone, nothing left but the same empty shell he had arrived as. </p><p>The light had gone away, the walls continuing to crumble, bit by bit. The blue of twilight bathed the chamber in its quiet ambience. And he closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands, when a loud snap filled the air, the wooden rafters above creaking, straining at the weight. </p><p>And he knew what it was. He had lost the courage to see it, so much that he kept his eyes covered, hands sealed over the skin. </p><p>But the shadows gathered around him, fingers of iron prying his hands away, reaching up to his face to pry his eyelids open. </p><p>He lurched onto the floor, shaking them off, turning his face this way and that. But they were strong hands, strong fingers, black as if made from Hector’s own shadow. </p><p>“Please,” he sobbed, shaking his head again. </p><p>The tears started to fall as his eyelids were held open, a deep trembling within him, terror and despair at once. </p><p>There was the sight he had been so afraid of. </p><p>Patroclus’ dark silhouette, dangling from the rafters, only its outline visible in the waning light. </p><p>“No,” Achilles gasped, and the hands let him go. He slumped to the floor and stared at the hanged body, weeping with a sorrow that had been waiting the longest time. </p><p><em>It is time for you to tell the truth.</em> </p><p>He clamped his mouth shut, and perhaps he must have taken too long, for Patroclus’ head jerked to one side, face in full view. The mouth opened, but no sound came out. The noose had cut off all air, and so the lips continued to move, mouthing out the words, over and over again, and Achilles was unable to tear his eyes away. </p><p>Come. To. Me. Dearest.<br/>
Dearest. Come. To. Me.<br/>
Come. To. Me.<br/>
Dearest. Dearest. Dearest. </p><p>“Stop!” he screamed. </p><p>Briseis’ voice, and Patroclus’, soft and high and wrong. A blend of the two, disembodied, echoing around him, under his feet, up to his ears. And then he heard himself, chanting the words, and he was silenced with disbelief at what happened next. </p><p>He saw himself get up from the floor and run to the corpse, wailing in grief, grabbing at it, grabbing at Patroclus.</p><p>His hands snatched the front of Patroclus’ shirt, and off the buttons flew, clattering onto the floor, and he said ‘I’m sorry’, and bent to pick them up, ‘I’ll keep them safe for you’; he put them in his pocket and Patroclus was still hanging, so he said ‘please come to me, dearest, don’t just hang there all day’. And he laughed, because it was a joke, ‘hang there all day, right, did you get it, Patroclus?’</p><p>The tears ran down his face as he laughed and he couldn’t get the body down at all. </p><p>And then it was over, and he was back to where he was, his attic high up in the clouds, fingers in his pocket, feeling sick. </p><p>
  <em>Are you ready to tell the truth?</em>
</p><p>Where was his true home? What was it about this world that had called to him so much? He had gone to such far reaches, all to save a man who could bind him here. All to save a man, who couldn’t be saved, and would never be.  </p><p>“I couldn’t.” The words came out, soft. </p><p>Pillars of fire. A maze of ashes and smoke.  His parents, coughing and calling out his name, until their voices died out. He’d braved the flames, bore the scars, but in the end … his home had been destroyed. Around it rose the stone walls of the Tower, endless and untouchable. Crumbling, now. Crumbling and collapsing. </p><p>“I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save them. And I needed to.”</p><p>He took a shuddering breath.</p><p>“If I only tried hard enough. There was a world where I could save him.”</p><p>Another death in the family, embedded in his mind, until he escaped and forgot about the place that had taken all he had. </p><p>He heard the teardrops hit the floor.</p><p>Tap, tap, tap. </p><p>“Maybe I could save myself too.”</p><p>His hand shook as he tried to balance himself on the floor, giving up. </p><p>“But there is no such place.”</p><p>And so the first question was answered.<br/>
-----</p><p>
  <em>I will ask the second question, and you will answer with the truth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What is your heart’s desire?</em>
</p><p>He closed his eyes and felt at his chest, and his fingers throbbed as he did so. Every night, for so long, fueled by one voice. The burning flame inside him, that had brought him here, into the dreams of men. </p><p>“That I had … love,” he bit out, and looked up at the dangling body, and averted his eyes again. </p><p>“That there was a part of him who wanted to stay. Wanted to be alive, for me.”</p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut, a deep grief he had buried for so long rising to the surface. </p><p>“Why didn’t he? Why did he let me go?” A hard burst of breath escaped him, struggling to keep ahold of himself. </p><p>“I hated him <em>so much</em>.” </p><p>He shook, feeling the heat of his grief fill in from within. </p><p>“I loved him, and I hated him, for not loving me at all.” </p><p>That knowledge had wrecked him, driven him to enter a world past the waking.</p><p>Her laughter, brushing against him like the wind on his face. And her words, that spoke for him when he hadn’t the strength.  </p><p>What was it he yearned for, every night when he searched for her at the window? He bent his head, giving in to the moment of truth. </p><p>His face was hot as he remembered how much he had resented her, when her powers weakened, how much he had come to fear the weight of his own ruin. It was her portals, made from dust and wind, that took him away on empty promises. It was her words, echoes of his mind, and all of his lies.</p><p>From him, the eternal weaver arose. </p><p>His heart’s desire. </p><p>Briseis. </p><p>Gifted with silver words, able to voice all his desires, and bring the illusion to life. They were good at hiding lies within the truth. </p><p>But she had failed him. Or rather, he had failed himself. Empty desires, from an empty heart. Patroclus’ love had been lost, forever. </p><p>And so the second question was answered.<br/>
----------------------</p><p>And finally, the third. </p><p><em>What do you fear?</em> </p><p>His head snapped up to meet Hector’s gaze, heart thumping wildly in his chest.<br/>
The spirit’s eyes were intent, and he felt that same throbbing in his fingers, itching, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He looked down at the bow, took it into his hand, to satisfy that itch. </p><p>He nocked an arrow, but his fingers were too clumsy, wouldn’t obey him. Again and again the arrow fell from his hand, and Hector watched, giving no sign of defending himself. </p><p>It was time to face it. </p><p>Slowly, the rope around Patroclus’ neck began to twirl, and his limbs jerked up, stiff at the joints, hands clenched into fists. The feet did a little jig, as if testing themselves out. The arms swivelled around in their sockets, a broken ragdoll, a puppet. The lips stretched into a wide smile, jaw cracking as it moved, elongated tongue bloody from the way it had been clamped so tightly. </p><p>There it was, in all its wrongness, a puppet addressing its audience. It linked its arms together and did a little leap, moving in and out of an imaginary circle, making the bile in Achilles’ stomach rise, seeing that sacred dance sullied. </p><p><em>What do you fear? What do you fear?</em> </p><p>He got the arrow in, at last, and aimed it, eyes glued on Hector’s face, unlikely as it was to find his target, but here was the source, and he had one chance. </p><p>The arrow flew, and pierced the rope, and the body fell, all movement leaving it, until it was just a sad, young man who had taken his own life. </p><p><em>The truth</em>, said Hector, again.</p><p>Achilles put down his bow, and wiped his eyes. </p><p>“That I was searching for you, all along.” </p><p>And so the third question was answered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was pitch black around them, the severed rope all that was left from the rafters. He knelt on the ground, fingers still clutching at the bow, slowly disintegrating in his hand, its purpose fulfilled. He could feel Hector watching him, a dark shadow, true form revealed in the aftermath. </p><p>His throat was dry, so much that he thought the power of speech had evaded him. </p><p>“Why?” he finally croaked out, averting his eyes from where the body had fallen, even though it wasn’t there anymore.</p><p>He had been here. He had stood in this exact spot. And he had never been able to get it down. </p><p>“Why am I still lost, after all this time?”</p><p>Hector did not answer, and the minutes passed. He could hear the ticking of the clock downstairs. The only part of the house that had been salvaged from the fire where his parents perished. </p><p>It all came back now, in slivers and fragments. He remembered breaking a mirror once, how the glass separated into shards, and it cut into his flesh when he tried to reassemble it. It felt like that, now. Cutting. </p><p>He had stood for so long staring at Patroclus. In that moment, time had stood still, and his feet would not move from where they had been when he discovered his loss. </p><p>It had been a sunny day. The warm light from the attic window hit Patroclus’ face, a peaceful background to the ugliness of what had transpired. It had almost felt like a joke.<br/>
---</p><p>“He wouldn’t come down,” he wept. </p><p>“And I didn’t make him. Why didn’t I make him? I waited till he turned blue. I waited.” His face was sticky with tears, eyes aching, and his collar wet. </p><p>He looked at Hector and cried some more, a deep stabbing feeling in his chest, as if the arrow had pierced him instead. </p><p><em>Achilles</em>, Hector sighed, and crept forward, towards him. </p><p>He opened his arms wide, and Achilles fell into them, breathing hard into Hector’s chest, strong and hard like iron; yet underneath it all, it was the same Hector it had always been. His shadow spread wide above them, a shield, a veil. </p><p>“Why didn’t I stay?” Achilles whispered.</p><p>“With you, when you asked me?” </p><p>His tears soaked Hector’s shirt, a soggy mess beneath his face, but he didn’t care. He could feel Hector’s hand stroking his back, and there was something about it, something he’d never been able to replicate in all his dreams. </p><p>
  <em>You made your choices. And they were always yours, no matter what I did. I could have taunted you until the Tower collapsed, but in the end, you put a stop to it.</em>
</p><p>“It’s too painful,” Achilles replied.<br/>
“It’s too much for me.” </p><p>
  <em>I know. And that was why you came here, looking for me. There was something in you that needed me, but you didn’t know how. You know now, Achilles. You don’t need me to guide you any longer.</em>
</p><p>They stayed that way, on the dusty floor, and the Tower crumbled around them, until it was just the attic. The attic in the burned house. </p><p>“Will you show me?” Achilles asked, tentatively. </p><p>“However little there is of it. It’s all I ask of you.”</p><p>Hector took a deep breath in, seeming to weigh his thoughts, but nodded.</p><p><em>Something to comfort you</em>, he replied, and Achilles closed his eyes, letting something little of what he had lost wash over him; and he welcomed it, heart for once consoled as the cracks were filled.<br/>
-----------------------------------------------------</p><p>They were lying on their backs, watching the patterns of the leaves above them. </p><p>“Wish I may, wish I might,” Achilles whispered. </p><p>Hector eyed him. “May what?” </p><p>“Hmm?” Achilles rolled over to face him.<br/>
“What?”</p><p>“You said you wished you may …?”</p><p>“Oh.” He chuckled.<br/>
“It’s something from when I was a child. Of course, it was never the stars I wished on.”</p><p>“Why would anyone wish on stars? They care nothing for mortal affairs.”</p><p>“Sometimes it helps when you have something to believe in,” Achilles explained. </p><p>Hector raised an eyebrow. “Why isn’t it enough to believe in people?”</p><p>“Is that what you believe in?”</p><p>Silence. </p><p>“Sometimes,” Hector admitted.</p><p>“What about me? Do you believe in me?” </p><p>“I think I believe in Figs a little more than I believe in you.”</p><p>Achilles scoffed, pretending at offense. </p><p>“Sometimes,” Hector said, again, after a minute had passed. </p><p>“All the time,” Achilles corrected, voice firm. </p><p>Hector leaned back and laughed, the sound deep and mellow.<br/>
“You haven’t quite convinced me yet.”</p><p>“Oh no?” Achilles smiled, seeing Hector this way, and it wasn’t the leaves he watched, no, not anymore.<br/>
---</p><p>It was daytime, and they were picking dirt out of the horses’ hooves. </p><p>“Look at the state of this,” Hector muttered, and it brought Achilles back to their first day in the forest. </p><p>How Hector had said something so similar, had pushed his hair back from his face and let him cling, arms stroking his back in a comforting manner. It weighed on him, all these days, all these months. Perhaps it had weighed on him since the night he had first seen Hector. </p><p>“Want to know something?” he asked, before he could stop himself. </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I think you’re beautiful,” he said.<br/>
“I’ve always thought so.”  </p><p>He caught Hector’s stare, and they were like that, the seconds passing, each one matched to the quickening thud in his chest. </p><p>Perhaps it was some madness that took hold of him, perhaps it was some measure of sanity that grounded and guided him to what he did next. </p><p>He leaned forward, eyes all the while taking in, the heat rising to his face when he realized Hector would not move away. Just then, Figs made a sudden movement, colliding into his side. He missed Hector’s lips, their noses bumping into each other instead. </p><p>“Ow,” Hector said, and frowned at Achilles, but his gaze lingered as Achilles ducked his head and continued cleaning Figs’ hoof.<br/>
---</p><p>Later that night, his heart pounded in his chest as he lay under their cloak, feeling Hector so close, a hair’s breadth away. His back seemed to burn, sensing the other man’s eyes on him. </p><p>“Why did you do that?” Hector asked, eventually, voice soft enough that Achilles could pretend not to hear if he wanted to. </p><p>He waited a few seconds before answering. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he said.<br/>
“Was I wrong?” </p><p>He could feel Hector shifting a little, but the man did not reply. He turned slightly, peering over his shoulder, and caught Hector’s gaze. The silence between them was almost comfortable, Hector simply looking at him, and waiting. </p><p>He turned aside the racing of his thoughts for once, moved closer, and didn’t miss this time. </p><p>He’d missed feeling like this, having someone kiss him, close and warm. Hector’s stubble scratched against his cheek, and it made him laugh. </p><p>“Are you sure you want me?” Hector asked, when they parted.</p><p>“You must have seduced me with those rabbit traps of yours,” Achilles teased, and felt lit from within when Hector smiled his favorite smile - the sweet one, that had only come out once before, when Hector had caught Achilles telling Figs stories, thinking they were alone. </p><p>Hector looked at him for a long time, as though gauging his sincerity. But something in Achilles’ expression must have made up his mind, for the next thing he did was to bring them close together again. </p><p>“This is how people kiss, where you’re from?” </p><p>“They do more than kiss,” Achilles replied, and thought, deep down, he would savor this.</p><p>If he could have Hector, even for a little while, he would treasure it while they had the time. It was something precious, and those things were hard to come by, no matter what world he lived in.<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He wondered if Hector’s map was where he had left it in his cell. Perhaps he had never needed it. Something to pass the time, those long hours, waiting, waiting, as they did on death row. </p><p>Waiting, and waiting, just like what he had done with Patroclus. Feet unable to move, not knowing how long he stayed there, but it must have been days, because the police arrived after Patroclus had been reported missing. </p><p>“He won’t get down,” he’d simply said. </p><p>Only a month after his parents’ deaths. And he had already been a prime suspect. </p><p>Perhaps he’d never stood a chance. What were his words against theirs? He had already lost so much of himself, and there was nothing left. A Tower where no earth or sky could reach, a trap. And he’d made his mark on it, fingernails filed down as he scratched at the walls, because he could not go in peace. Something in him had snapped, when he’d known how he would die, a wrongful death, no matter that the blood had not been on his hands. </p><p>The world had existed in the dreams of men, and for once, he had listened to the cry of his own heart, to bring him there.<br/>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>He was in the chair, feeling the weights on his shaved head, on his leg. The smell of the metal filled his nose, made him try to bring his arms up, but they were strapped. He wondered if it was nighttime, and if it was, if there was a full moon outside. </p><p>He wondered when the last time was when he saw her. It was dark underneath the fabric over his eyes, but he could picture her, a great white beauty, light reaching across the earth, and over the lone window of a house in the country. He imagined her calling to him. </p><p>This time, he would not answer.</p><p>If he had any prayers, they had been uttered a long time ago. They fell back into place, all the building blocks he had rearranged, on his quest to find his angel of death. </p><p>There were certain truths that were too harsh to bear, but he could rest easy now, knowing he was on the path to heal from them, however final the road was. Even with his eyes covered, his mind swirled with color, and it was the outline of a man’s shadow, its arms outstretched, showing him that he didn’t need to search anymore.</p><p>When the lever was pulled, he would go, his mind belonging to no one but him.</p><p>He hadn’t even known, but perhaps he hadn’t been wrong. He’d embarked on a quest to fulfill his destiny, and found what he needed, to carry him away, his soul finally at rest. And he went.</p>
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